


Cadenas de Amor (Chains of Love)

by pamz



Category: Zorro (TV 1990)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempted Seduction, F/M, Fade to black sex, Miscarriage, Non-Major Canon Character Deaths, Nudity, Pregnancy, Thoughts of infidelity, marital discord, marital rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-08-24 16:23:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 54
Words: 143,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8379205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pamz/pseuds/pamz
Summary: Alternate Universe - What if Diego had married Zafira and brought her home to California?





	1. Marry in Haste. . .

**Author's Note:**

> I had to borrow a lot of dialogue and characters from the NWZ episodes "The Old Flame" written by Tom Sawyer and "The Legend Begins" written by Robert L McCullough and probably several other episodes later on. This is an alternative universe and I will not be sticking to canon. 
> 
> Disclaimer: This story is an amateur, not-for-profit publication produced solely for the enjoyment of other Zorro fans and is not intended to infringe upon any rights by Goodman/Rosen Productions, New World Television, Zorro Productions, the estate of Johnston McCulley or anyone else.

** MADRID - EARLY SPRING 1817 **

"Diego! Diego!" A young woman called out, capturing the attention of the tall caballero stretched out on a blanket under a tree. It was a beautiful spring morning and many students from the university were taking advantage of the clement weather.

Diego de la Vega had been among them, relaxing in the warm sunshine while he studied one of his mathematics textbooks. That was before he was interrupted and by such a lovely interruption indeed. . .

"Yes!" declared the woman enthusiastically as Diego rose to his feet and she threw her arms around him.

"Yes?" he echoed happily then kissed her and held her close.

"Absolutely and positively yes," responded Zafira fiercely, gazing up at him with adoring eyes.

"As soon as I graduate, we'll sail back to California and get married," announced the young don.

"But why must we wait? I just want to be your wife, Diego. Now." She said this last word with much urgency.

Diego stared down at his eager young novia and quickly formulated a plan of action. "You know the church at Colmenar?" he asked. Zafira nodded. "I'll speak to the priest this afternoon. Meet me there at sundown. We'll get married today. Yes?"

Zafira nodded once again with a smile on her lips. Lips that Diego hungrily kissed as they sealed their troth.

Z Z Z

That afternoon, Diego skipped the rest of his classes, something he had never done during all his time at university. But then he never was going to get married before either. He went instead to the lodgings he shared with his amigo and fellow student, Miguel Cortez. He was hastily packing a small case when Miguel burst through the door.

"Diego, where have you been?" inquired the young man excitedly. "You missed the most fascinating lecture. . ." Miguel paused when he saw the satchel filled with his friend's belongings. "Where are you going? Not back to California, I hope? You haven't graduated yet."

Diego shook his head. Lately he had been receiving very disturbing letters from his father about events occurring back in Los Angeles. Several missives had hinted that his return to California would be extremely welcomed.

"No," Diego replied. "I'm getting married."

"Married?" queried a stunned Miguel. "Diego, are you loco? You haven't even known Zafira two months." He stared at his roommate. "It is Zafira, isn't it?"

" _Si_ , of course," replied Diego. "I know that I love her. That's all I need to know."

"Diego, Diego," said the other young man, shaking his head. He glanced worriedly at Diego.

Miguel Cortez was a handsome man whose good looks and an extroverted personality had ensured him his share of lovely señoritas. The string of broken hearts his friend had left behind was becoming legendary on campus. Diego had been the exact opposite, immersing himself in his studies and ignoring the willing females who would have distracted him from his scholarly pursuits.

"I'm here to study, not chase women," Diego had stated to Miguel more times than he could count. He had been grateful, however, that his amigo had arranged for him to meet a beautiful young widow about a year earlier. The woman had become his mistress for nearly six months.

"What about that chica you told me about?" Miguel asked, bring Diego out of his remembrances by snapping his fingers. "You know, the one back in Los Angeles. The one you were waiting for her to grow up. What was her name?"

Diego just stared at Miguel, wondering who on earth he was talking about. Then an image of a pretty young girl grew clearer in his mind. A girl with raven curls and sad brown eyes. 

"Victoria, Victoria Escalante," he finally replied. He sighed wearily. "That was just a childish infatuation, Miguel. A young boy's foolish fancy. I'm quite sure she has married someone else by now." 

"Only because you didn't declare yourself before you left," pointed out Miguel. Diego's love of the innkeepers' daughter had been a tale that his friend had had to pry out of Diego when they had met nearly four years earlier. "It wouldn't have mattered to me how young she was," he continued on. "If I had loved her as much as you claimed you did at the time, I would have let her know."

" _Dios_ , she was only fourteen," Diego sighed wearily. "She had just lost both her parents and was left with the responsibility of running the tavern. The last thing she needed was for me to ask her to wait for me until I graduated from university. It wouldn't have been fair." He placed one more shirt into his case. "I had no idea of her feelings for me anyway."

Diego shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. "Zafira and I are getting married. Today. I need to go make the necessary arrangements."

"What is the old saying? Ah, yes, ‘married in haste, repent at leisure'," said Miguel. "But it's your life, _amigo_. I see nothing I can say will change your mind." Diego shook his head.

Miguel smiled cheerlessly. "Congratulations, Diego. _Vaya con Dios_ , eh?" He patted Diego on the back.

" _Gracias_ , Miguel," replied Diego, accepting the grudgingly offered sentiment. He clasped the other man on the shoulder. "Adios, amigo." The groom-to-be closed up his bag and departed, giving his old roommate one last wave.

Z Z Z

The sun was beginning to set as Diego waited with the priest for Zafira's arrival. The young don was starting to worry. He should have made sure everything was all right with her before he left Madrid, he thought forlornly as he sat down on a bench. Idly, he picked up a stick and began doodling on the dusty ground. Drawing a ‘Z' into the dry soil, Diego wondered if he should have brought Zafira with him instead of letting her make her own way to the little chapel. He should have. . .

His fretting ceased as Zafira glided into the courtyard and into his arms. She was beautiful, in a pale pink dress made of some gauzy fabric. A wreath of pink roses and baby's breath encircled her light brown hair. She smiled up at him.

"I'm sorry I'm so late, Diego," she offered as an apology. "My brother Ricardo was at home when I went to change." 

Diego knew that Zafira's older brother had joined a band of revolutionaries bent on removing King Ferdinand from the throne. He often wondered sometimes if Zafira was also sympathetic to their cause. Odd comments she made now and again led him to believe so.

But that was all unimportant now. She was here and she was going to be his wife. The young couple eagerly followed the priest into the small chapel where they would become husband and wife. The ceremony was short, with only one witness, an old nun from the nearby convent.

Diego and Zafira exchanged their vows solemnly; promising to love and honor each other until parted only by death. Diego panicked slightly as he had completely forgotten a ring. Finally remembering the signet ring he wore, he slipped it from his own finger to hers. The band was much too large for her slim finger and she had to curl her hand to keep it on.

"I'll get you a better one," he whispered just before he kissed her after the padre had instructed him he could do so. The elderly _hermana_ wiped tears from her rheumy eyes with a plain cotton handkerchief as she watched the newlyweds leave the chapel.

Diego had booked them a room for the night in a quaint little inn not far from the church. As he led Zafira to its front door, it suddenly reminded him of the tavern back in Los Angeles. The one now owned by Victoria Escalante. 

A sharp twinge in the region around his heart caused him to pause for a moment. Zafira looked up at him curiously and he smiled down at her, dismissing the dull ache that remained as silly sentimentalism. Diego gallantly opened the establishment's door and let his new wife enter inside.

Z Z Z

Light from the rising sun was spilling through the window panes of the newlyweds' bedchamber. Diego rolled over in his sleep and woke with a start. Something was very different this morning, he realized as he stared at the back of the sleeping Zafira. _Dios mio_ , he was married. An sheepish grin crept across his handsome face as he recalled the events of the previous evening.

It had been awkward, especially at first. They had spent the supper they had eaten glancing at each other shyly. Conversation had been minimal and focused on mundane subjects, the weather, their food, Diego's classes at university. But he had seen in her eyes that what lay ahead that night filled her with trepidation. Their courtship had not gone beyond kisses and a few caresses as was proper.

Finally, the point was reached when they could no longer put off retiring for the night. Diego escorted Zafira up the staircase to their room. Once inside, their self-consciousness grew even more. The bedroom was tiny and the four-poster bed dominated much of its space.

Fortunately, there was an even smaller dressing room, which Diego gallantly offered to use to change his clothes. Zafira nodded wordlessly as he closed the door.

Diego took his time undressing. He could hear her in the next room, opening her case and then the soft rustling of garments. An ache was growing in his loins. Tonight was his wedding night. His bride was inexperienced and he worried about hurting her. Although he felt a twinge of guilt for thinking of another woman on his wedding night, his lips curled up into a smile as he recalled his former mistress's wise advice on how to please a woman. 

The squeaking of the bedsprings snapped him out of his memories of the sultry young widow. Glad of his nightshirt as it hid his eagerness, he opened the door. Greeted by a darkened room lit by a single candle, Diego could barely make out Zafira as she was buried under the bed's coverlet.

"Zafira?" he whispered, hoping that she had not fallen asleep.

" _Si_ , Diego," she replied, slightly rising from under the covers.

He said nothing as he climbed into the bed and slid under the sheets. Diego then brought his hand up to his bride's face and stroked it gently.

"Don't be scared, _querida_ ," he murmured before kissing her cheek. "You know I would never hurt you."

"I know that," Zafira stated quietly. "I love you, Diego."

"I love you too, Zafira."

They moved closer together and Diego could feel her shiver. With fear or anticipation, he wasn't entirely sure. Their lips met, then Diego gently coaxed her mouth open with his tongue. He took it as a good sign that she moaned and pressed herself closed to his body.

His hands, which had been resting on her waist, became bolder; traveling up and down her back. Slowly he slid them up her sides and cupped her breasts.

Zafira whimpered with what he hoped was pleasure. He wished he could look into her eyes but she had them tightly closed. He brushed his thumbs over her nipples which responded by hardening. With trembling fingers, Diego untied the satin ribbons that held together the nightgown's neckline and slipped the garment down off her shoulders. He then lowered his head to take one of the exposed nipples into his mouth.

Nature took its course from there.

Lying there the next morning, Diego mulled over the events of previous night, savoring each exquisite moment. Zafira had been so sweet, so shy. A guilty feeling crept over him as he remembered taking his pleasure and not knowing for certain if she had done so as well. 

He cursed his own inexperience of such matters. His widowed mistress had not been shy about letting him know he had pleased her. But then she had been a mature woman, not an unsophisticated young woman like Zafira. His bride reassured him that he had not hurt her and that she had enjoyed their lovemaking as much as he had. But there was still a niggling little doubt in Diego's mind.

There had been differences between the two women, he had recognized that. But there had been something oddly similar as well. Diego just couldn't deduce what it was. In truth, he realized he had a lot to learn about women.

Or, he amended that thought, about one woman in particular. His pensive expression turned into a smile as Zafira rolled over to face him, a shy grin on her lovely face. " _Buenos dias_ ," she murmured.

"Good morning," he replied as he reached out his hand to touch her cheek. "Did you sleep well?"

" _Si_ ," she said as she stretched her arms. "I feel like a new woman."

Diego had to chuckle. "You are a new woman," he stated. "You're my wife." He leaned over and kissed her. Passion began to surge through his body and he drew her to him.

"Diego!" Zafira exclaimed in a shocked tone. "It's daylight. I mean, we can't. . . We're not supposed to. . ."

"Why not?" asked Diego, not wanting to take no for an answer. He did pull back and gazed at her intently. She did seem genuinely distressed at the thought of making love during the day.

"It's not proper, that's why," she declared. Zafira caressed his face. "Besides, I'm hungry. When is breakfast?"

Diego reclined against his pillow. He was also hungry, but not for food. Still, if it was what Zafira wished. . . He would have to be a good husband and fulfill her every desire, even if it contradicted his own.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - The actual quote is ‘married in haste, we may repent at leisure' which is from the play "The Old Bachelor" by William Congreve.
> 
> Congreve was an English playwright and poet who was born 24 January 1670 and who died 19 January 1729. He is buried in the Poet's Corner of Westminster Abbey.


	2. A Utopian World

As Diego didn't have classes again until Monday, the newlyweds stayed in Colmenar, strolling through the streets of the charming little pueblo. He and Zafira bought little gifts for each other at the stalls of the weekly mercado that had been set up in the plaza. 

Just like back home in California, thought Diego as a twinge of homesickness struck him. He hadn't felt this way since his first year at university. Diego wondered why this longing for home would be afflicting him so painfully now. Was it because graduation was only two months away and he soon would be heading back to Los Angeles? Or was there another reason, something he had pushed back into a corner of his mind and forgotten, that now had come roaring back up to the surface again?

Diego and Zafira returned to Madrid Sunday afternoon. That night was the first he would spend in his temporary new home, a townhouse in a fashionable district of Madrid Zafira and her brother had inherited from their parents. There was a note from Ricardo, saying he had gone to Segovia with his amigos so he could give the newly married couple a little time to themselves, warning them he would be back in two weeks.

"I don't think I will be tired of you in two weeks," declared Diego. He reached down and nuzzled her neck with his lips. "Or ever, _mi querida_."

Zafira stepped away from his amorous advance. "You do realize, don't you, Diego, that Ricardo has nowhere else to go? That this house belongs to both of us?" she queried worriedly.

"I understand, Zafira," her husband replied, a bit perturbed by the interruption. "It's not like it will be forever. As soon as I graduate, you'll be moving to California with me. Ricardo will have the house all to himself then."

The expression that came over his wife's face then told Diego this was something she had not contemplated. Would she be reluctant to leave Spain with him when the time came to do so, he wondered with concern. 

"I haven't been home in four years," stated Diego. "I miss my father and Felipe and. . ."

"I know," Zafira said. "I'm your wife now, Diego. I will follow you wherever you take me." She stood up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. He put his arms around her and kissed her on the mouth. One thing led to another and. . .

The next two weeks passed by quickly. Diego resumed his studies, including his fencing lessons with Sir Edmund. He was teased unmercifully by his schoolmates once they found out he was now a married man, but they were all happy for him. His saber master, however, had been dismayed upon learning about his pupil's hasty marriage.

"Why the rush?" the Englishman demanded to know. "You're only twenty-three, Diego. Plenty of time to settle down and get married. Why, you haven't even known her three months."

Diego had closed his ears and his mind to the older man's prudent but unwanted words. He had heard the same argument from his amigo, Miguel, and he was tired of it. So what if he had known her such a short time? It had only taken a few days to realize he loved her more than any woman he had ever known. Why couldn't the people closest to him see that she made him happy?

But did she really? Little nagging thoughts were starting to make him question his certainty. There were several things he was beginning to notice that made him question her feelings for him. The warm, affectionate woman she had been before they married was slowly disappearing. The lovemaking they had both enjoyed (or so he had thought) was already becoming less frequent. Several nights she had turned him down completely, claiming she had a horrible headache. 

Diego had also been disheartened by Zafira's reaction to his suggestion several days earlier that they adopt Felipe upon their return to California. She refused to even consider the idea.

"Our children will be the heirs to the de la Vega estate," Zafira stated. "I know how fond you are of this boy, Diego, and his story makes me very sad. But think how heartbroken he will be when you have your own children; he will know you love them more than him."

"But at least wait until you meet him, _querida_ ," Diego tried to change her mind. "He is the most adorable little fellow. He deserves a mother and father."

" _Si_ , I suppose he does," replied his wife with an indifferent shrug. "But it can't be us, Diego." She smiled up at him coquettishly. "Maybe some nice peasant couple can adopt him. I think it would be for the best." 

She put an end to the discussion by kissing him. But Diego was still going over the conversation in his mind. Was she afraid of Felipe's deafness and muteness? He would have to show her once they arrived home the boy was no monster. Maybe then she would change her mind.

All these disturbing thoughts were floating about in Diego's head, putting him in a melancholy mood. He made it through his early morning classes before proceeding to the courtyard where his fight master waited.

Z Z Z

[scene taken from "The Legend Begins" written by Robert L McCullough]

Diego knew that Sir Edmund had noticed right away that something was troubling his young student. Once their weapons were engaged, he had narrowed his eyes disbelievingly at the very sloppy moves Diego was making, his mind obviously not on the task at hand.

The Englishman executed a _peseta soto_ , causing Diego's saber to fall to the ground as he stumbled clumsily. The young don, his hands on his slim hips, shook his head in disgust of his own ineptness. 

"It's incredible," stated Sir Edmund, equally appalled. "Is this all we have to show for nearly four years?"

"I'm sorry, Sir Edmund, but. . ." Diego started to reply grimly.

"But, but, but," mocked the fight master. "Do your studies weigh too heavily on you, Diego?" he inquired, no doubt trying to see if he could get at the root of his student's pathetic display of swordsmanship.

"My studies are no problem," replied Diego defensively.

"Good, because a man who buries his nose in books never sees the real world," Sir Edmund admonished, "and the real world demands a man be able to defend himself."

He kicked Diego's dropped sword into the air. His student deftly caught it. " _En garde!_ " shouted the fight master.

The two men circled each other warily, each making tentative thrusts as they continued their conversation.

"I hear things in Los Angeles are not going well," Diego mentioned casually, hoping to distract Kendall from the real reason for his inattentiveness. Diego was not about to let the Englishman know there were already problems between him and his wife. He was in no mood to hear ‘I told you so' from the older man.

"Do you think that's why your father sent you here, to keep you out of harm's way?"

"No, I think he sent me here to learn, to grow."

"Precisely," remarked Sir Edmund. "And when my job is done, I will send to Los Angeles a man of whom a father can be proud. A man who can fight!"

At this, the saber master pulled a dagger he had hidden in his waistband and lunged at his student. Diego skillfully parried each blade thrust. He grabbed Kendall's wrist and hit it against his lifted knee, causing the knife to clatter to the tiled floor. Sir Edmund looked up at him, a huge smile on his ruddy face.

"Ah, the puppy can bite," he said mockingly.

They once more engaged their swords, intensifying the battle. After only a few minutes, however, Diego caught his teacher off guard and put his blade against the older man's throat. Sir Edmund's grin was even broader as Diego lowered his saber.

"You've been holding back on me, haven't you?" queried the fight master. He glanced suspiciously at his opponent.

Diego's expression was one of innocence as he nonchalantly shrugged his broad shoulders. But his eyes twinkled mischievously as he brought up his saber for a salute. Master and pupil continued their lesson.

Z Z Z

[scene taken from "The Legend Begins" written by Robert L McCullough]

Later that afternoon, Diego was walking down a corridor that led away from the university's library. His nose was once again stuck in a book. He was so intent on what he was reading, he nearly collided with Sir Edmund.

"Diego," the Englishman said in a exasperated tone as he tried to get the young don's attention.

"Ah, Sir Edmund," replied Diego, finally lifting his eyes from his book. "I've just discovered a theory that applies Euclidian trigonometric principles to da Vinci's early mechanics as a demonstration of. . ."

"You and your books," interrupted the fight master with a smile. It disappeared as his countenance became serious. "Diego, I have just received a letter from your father. The rumors we have heard about California are true. Your father wants to know if I think you're ready to go home yet."

Diego was taken aback at this announcement. "Well, earlier today, you were saying I had so much to learn," he replied once the shock had worn off.

"Don't we all? As for me, ‘all I know is that I know nothing'," quoted Sir Edmund.

"Socrates." Diego identified the quote's originator.

"Very good," responded his teacher with a grin. He immediately became somber again. "You've been a superb pupil, Diego. Now you must be a superb man. Take this." He unhooked the scabbard from his belt that contained the magnificent sword he always wore and handed it the young Californian.

Diego was once again overwhelmed. "I don't understand," he said, the confusion plain in his voice.

"You're the first student to ever best me in the courtyard," stated Kendall with pride. "You've earned it." 

"This is your championship saber," said Diego, still a bit incredulous such a honor was being bestowed on him.

"You'll have to work with it," advised his fight master, "become accustomed to its weight."

Diego lifted the sheathed sword in his hands, testing its heft. "It is heavy, isn't it?" he agreed.

"And its Toledo blade has never been defeated in competition. My only prayer is that is does as well in the heat of battle."

The young don pondered those words for a moment. Battle? Surely it wouldn't come to that. Things couldn't be that bad back home. He then made a promise he hoped he would be able to keep. "And mine will be that it never draws blood."

"A worthy goal, Diego," said Sir Edmund. "But the fight for justice often demands more than intellect."

"But what about everything I've learned here at the university," stressed Diego, knowing of the other man's disdain for ‘book learning' as he called it, "the sciences, history, political strategy. Aren't those skills the most valuable?"

"In a utopian world, yes. But in this world, there is often greater value in daring, self-reliance, intrepid courage and sharp Toledo steel." Sir Edmund replied as an encouraging smile crept across his face.

Diego grinned back before unsheathing the saber from it scabbard. He looked at it admiringly. It really was a beautiful weapon. He prayed once again that he would be worthy of it as a bittersweet smile graced his handsome face. Now he had to go home and tell Zafira they were heading home to California.

Z Z Z

" _Now_ , Diego?" his wife practically shouted the question at him. "Why now? It is only two months until you graduate. Why can't we wait until then?"

Diego closed his eyes. Never had he imagined Zafira would react like this to the news they were to leave at once for California. Her reluctance almost broke his resolve to obey his father's wishes. But not quite. . .

"My father wants me to come home," Diego quietly stated once again. "You have to understand, querida. He never would have asked me to return now if it were a problem he could handle himself. Once you meet him, you'll understand. Alejandro de la Vega is not a man who is easily intimidated." He smiled at the thought of his strong, brave father. Then he frowned. It was quite unlike the elder de la Vega to raise the alarm unless it was very serious.

"But Ricardo is supposed to come back from Segovia in two days. How am I going to say goodbye to my brother if we leave tomorrow for Cadiz?"

Diego shook his head wearily. "I'm sorry, _mi preciosa_ , it cannot be helped. It's going to take us a week to reach Cadiz, then at least two more months before we reach California. My father wants me back as soon as possible. We have to leave tomorrow."

Zafira stared angrily at her husband. "But he's my brother, the only family I have left. What if I never see him again?"

He examined her expression of sorrow and wondered just much of it was an act. She had barely mentioned her sibling all the time he had been away. Usually when she did speak of him, it was with a tinge of impatience in her voice. Diego had gotten the impression during their short courtship that Zafira was not all that fond of her hermano. Maybe he had mistaken normal sibling rivalry for something else.

"You'll see him again, I promise," said Diego, prepared to vow almost anything to get her to leave willingly with him in the morning. "Perhaps next year, we'll come back for our wedding anniversary?" He smiled at her with what he hoped was his most convincing smile. Then a thought crossed his mind that made his grin even wider. He reached his hand out toward her stomach. "Unless of course, there is a little one on the way by then."

She flinched away from his touch. "All right," she acquiesced. "I guess I will just leave Ricardo a note saying I'm sorry I had to abandon him but I had to do as my husband wished." She brought up her hand to wipe tears away from her eyes.

"Zafira, _querida_ , don't feel this way," Diego pleaded. "You'll love California. I know you will." He grasped her hands, not allowing her to pull away. "You know I would do anything I can to make you happy. Just do this one thing for me, _por favor_."

"I said I would go," she replied a bit defiantly. "Now, if you will excuse me. . ."

She didn't wait for his response but tore her hands from his and dashed into their bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Diego followed her but stopped in his tracks as he could hear her retching.

_Dios mio!_ He never meant to make her sick. He hadn't realized she was so attached to her brother. It didn't help she was probably frightened of leaving the only home she had ever known to live in a place she knew was fraught with danger. It was the whole reason his father wanted him to come home. 

Diego, torn between his loyalties to his father and to his wife, realized he could not please them both. He leaned his forehead against the doorframe. Inside their bedroom, he could hear his wife still being ill. The same thought that had crossed his mind earlier appeared again. No, that was impossible. It was much too soon for her to be showing any signs of pregnancy. After all, they had barely been married two weeks.

No, it had to be from the upset she was feeling about being wrenched away from her family and home. Well there was just no helping it, he thought somewhat cavalierly. Right now, his deeper concern for his father's and Felipe's safety. He and his wife were leaving in the morning for California.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - Sir Edmund Kendall's line from one of the conversations he has with Diego in "The Legend Begins" which I have used in this chapter: "In a utopian world, yes. But in this world, there is often greater value in daring, self-reliance, intrepid courage and sharp Toledo steel."


	3. Storm at Sea

The journey to Cadiz was uneventful except for Zafira's silent brooding the entire week. Diego grew accustomed to the cold shoulder she showed him during the day. But at night. . . He closed his eyes as if to block out his feelings of frustration to the rebuffs she was giving him in bed. 

He was up on the deck of the ship, staring out at the deep blue water of the Atlantic Ocean. Its color reminded Diego of the blue of his wife's eyes and he groaned aloud. 

The previous evening, their last night on the continent before setting sail, he has teasingly reminded her at bedtime of her ‘wifely duty'. Diego had not been at all prepared for the ferocity of Zafira's response.

"I am fulfilling my ‘wifely duty'," she had nearly spat at him. "I'm coming with you, aren't I? I'm leaving my home and my family just to make you happy. Isn't that enough for you?"

Diego had been too shock to say anything for several minutes. By the time his brain could come up with a reply, she had pulled the bedcovers up over her head and turned her back to him. Quietly he finished undressing and got into the bed, lying still beside her, throbbing with frustration.

When had everything gone wrong? It still didn't make sense she was so upset about traveling to California with him. It was what they had planned to do anyway, but in June instead of now. Why was the two months' difference such a bone of contention?

He shook his head slightly. He had hoped once they were out at sea, she would realize she had no choice but to accept his decision. Maybe she would even become excited about the new land that would soon be her home. Diego had pledged to himself the night before they set sail to do everything he could to make her see that California was not a place she had to fear. 

He would tell her stories of his boyhood, of the rugged beauty of the land itself, of his father and Felipe. He would even tell her of his mother if it came to that. How the beautiful daughter of wealth and privilege had found love and happiness in the rough and sometimes brutal territory of Alta California. Of course, he would not tell her of Felicidad de la Vega's death due to childbirth. It was a subject he could not bear to share with anyone.

As Diego watched the sun sink down into the western horizon, he shook his head again. So far his plan had not been implemented. Zafira had so far spent the whole day aboard the vessel being ill. Since she had never been at sea before, she had no idea she was susceptible to the dreaded mal de mar. He could hardly find fault with her for that. Just because he was a seasoned ocean traveler who was never afflicted with sea sickness, it didn't mean his wife would be the same way.

Slowly, he made his way down to their cabin. He was afraid of leaving her alone for too long, but he had just had to get out of the stuffy, foul-smelling tiny room for a few minutes. Diego had tried to convince Zafira that the fresh air would do her good as well but she refused to even consider it.

Diego sighed deeply as he reached the cabin's door. It wasn't going to be a pleasant time these next few months if things continued this way. He opened the door and stepped into the small room.

Zafira was on the bed, looking pale. Diego immediately felt contrite. His poor _querida_ , lying there so ill all this time, while he was thinking such unkind things about her. She really did look terrible.

"How are you feeling, _mi preciosa_?" he asked solicitously. He sat down on the edge of the bed and place his large hand on her forehead.

"I just want to die," she moaned as she closed her eyes and put her own hand to her stomach.

Diego glanced over at the untouched tea and dry toast he had brought to her after lunch. "You might feel better if you had something to eat," he suggested.

Zafira's answer was to groan again and quickly bring her other hand up to her mouth. "I can't," she replied, shaking her head. "Oh Diego, just let me die."

"Querida, you're not going to die from seasickness," he chided her as gently as he could. "After a few days, you should feel as good as new." He smiled at her as he stroked her hair. "I've made this journey half a dozen times. No one perished on any of those trips." He chuckled. "You'll feel better by next week, you'll see."

Zafira shook her head again. "This is all your fault, Diego," she said accusingly. She jerked away from his touch and rolled over in the narrow bed, turning her back to him.

Diego sighed heavily. "Well, I'm going up to dinner," he announced. "I'll send everyone your regrets."

"You do that," she retorted, her voice slightly muffled by her pillow. "Just leave me alone."

Exhaling loudly once more, Diego turned around and exited the cabin. He really couldn't blame her for being angry with him. Though it made no sense to be upset with him because of her sickness; she would have suffered from it no matter when they made this voyage. These thoughts plagued him all the way up to the dining room where he had been invited to sit at the captain's table.

At twenty-three, he was the youngest person there. There was the captain, of course, a burly white-haired man with a leathery face. Also in attendance was the first mate, a crude-looking fellow; the ship's doctor, and an older man and woman who were obviously a married couple. It took Diego only a few minutes to find out the pair were on their way home to Cartagena, a port city in the province of Colombia. The husband kept them entertained with his stories of pirates who tried to attack the city nearly three hundred years earlier.

Diego listened intently as Señor Ojala told how the buccaneers finally breached the well fortified town and plundered and pillaged it. "It was truly horribly," he declared. "They took everything of value and what they did to the women. . ." He trailed off as he glanced at his wife and saw her disapproving stare. "Well, I cannot say. Just that it was terrible, just terrible."

"An interesting history," commented the captain who winked at his first mate. It was a tale they both had heard many times already, no doubt, but they politely kept that fact to themselves.

"And where are you headed, Señor de la Vega?" asked the first mate.

"California," replied Diego, uncomfortable at becoming the center of attention. "Los Angeles."

"Los Angeles?" echoed Ojala, who then shook his head. "Never heard of it."

"It's a small pueblo north of San Diego," said Diego defensively. "I've lived there most of my life."

"It must be nice to be on your way back home," said Señora Ojala politely. "But didn't I see you with a young woman when we were boarding? 

" _Si_ , my wife, Zafira," stated Diego. "She sends her regrets by the way," he said to the captain. "She's not feeling well at the moment."

"The sea claims another victim," laughed the ship's doctor, Señor Saludo. He then became serious. "I have a tonic that lessens the effects of _el mal de mar_. You could stop by my cabin after dinner, if you like."

"I would be most grateful," Diego responded eagerly.

"Maybe it's not seasickness," suggested Señora Ojala speculatively. "How long have you two been married?"

"Three weeks," answered a red-faced Diego, catching on quickly as to what the woman was implying. "No, she was fine until we set sail."

"Newlyweds," said the first mate with a smirk. "Saludo, you need to make sure the lady is properly healthy. Don't want anything interfering with their honeymoon, you know."

"Yes, well," interjected the captain before the mate could say anything else. He led the conversation in other directions for the duration of the meal.

Diego was grateful for the captain's intervention. He had become quite embarrassed by his table companions' implications. It was somewhat true that he was still on his honeymoon, but he hadn't made love to his bride for over a week. Not exactly something you would want to confess to a ship full of people, he thought wryly.

He stopped by the doctor's quarters on the way back to his own. Diego was truly amazed at the extent of the physician's apothecary. Jars and bottles filled with both liquids and dried herbs covered every available inch of the many shelves crammed into the room.

Saludo noticed his guest's curiosity and smiled. "I've always been interested in healing herbs and potions. I've found that nature often knows best," he stated with conviction.

" _Si_ ," replied Diego, still taking in the room's contents. He then glanced at the doctor. "But why are you just a ship's doctor? You could do so much more, teaching. . ."

The other man smiled at the impertinent question. "True, I should pass on my knowledge. But I have never been able to stay in one place for long. The sea is in my blood, _mi amigo_."

He rummaged around on one of the crowded shelves and after a few minutes removed a small bottle. Popping open the cork, he sniffed it then nodded before he stopped it up again.

"My own special seasickness cure," he announced as he handed the brown vial to Diego. "Chamomile, peppermint, pennyroyal, and just a drop or two of my secret ingredient. Stir two teaspoons into a cup of hot tea every four hours. Your wife will be up and about in no time."

" _Muchas gracias_ , Doctor," said Diego. "Zafira has been so miserable."

" _De nada_ ," replied Saludo with a grin. He patted Diego on the shoulder. "You are welcome to come back anytime," he added, picking up on Diego's keen interest of the room's contents.

"Thank you, sir." It was an offer Diego definitely intended to hold the other man to. 

Diego made his way back to the cabin he and Zafira shared. The overwhelming odor of vomit assailed him as he opened the door. His wife was stretched out on the tiny bed, fast asleep. The room was in shambles. Clothes were strewn everywhere. The chamber pot was tipped over, spewing its vile contents. The tepid tea had been spilled and the toast had been crumbled then tossed onto the cabin floor.

Sighing wearily, Diego started his unpleasant task of cleaning up the chaos Zafira had created. In the back of his mind, he wondered if this would be the first of many such messes of hers he would be forced to make go away.

Z Z Z

A week later, just as the doctor and Diego had predicted, Zafira was back on her feet again. Most of her good humor had been restored and she was nearly once again the sweet girl that Diego had married.

He was in a good mood himself that afternoon as they strolled around the deck. The previous evening, Zafira had allowed him to make love to her. Diego knew he should stop himself from smiling but he just couldn't help it as he remembered the night before. It has almost been like their wedding night all over again, but even better.

"It's too bad you weren't feeling well enough yet when we stopped in the Canaries," he said to his wife, hoping to take his mind off their lovemaking as the front of his trousers were beginning to feel tight. "It's so beautiful there. You would have enjoyed it."

" _Si_ , perhaps," Zafira sighed as she stopped and stared at the eastern horizon.

"It will be at least another two weeks yet before we make it to Havana," commented Diego. The wistfulness in his bride's eyes tore at his heart. He shook his head to clear it of any pitying thoughts. She knew he was from California when they had first met. And she knew he was going back as soon as he graduated. She had to have known accepting his marriage proposal meant she would be living with him in Los Angeles. 

Diego then remembered the wretched homesickness he himself had felt when he had first arrived in Madrid nearly four years earlier. Even though he had been there twice before, three times if one counted his birth in the Spanish capital, he still missed his home and family back in California. He came up behind Zafira and wrapped his arms gently around her.

"Don't be sad, _querida_ ," he murmured in to her ear. "You'll love California. I know you will." He kissed a spot on her neck. "The hacienda isn't far from the ocean. And there are mountains, beautiful mountains much higher than the ones surrounding Madrid."

Encouraged by the fact that she had relaxed against him, Diego continued, "The pueblo is small, I grant you that. But the people are friendly, hard-working, honest people." He stopped as Zafira glanced up at him sharply.

"We don't hold too much to the rigid social conventions of Madrid," he declared. "We have come to rely on each other for support."

"It sounds wonderful, Diego," she said without much conviction in her voice. 

"It is wonderful," declared Diego. "I wouldn't want to live anywhere else."

"Not even Spain?" queried Zafira. "Aren't you going to miss your time there?"

"Well, I'll certainly miss the university," Diego said somewhat wistfully, "all that knowledge right at my fingertips. And Miguel, he is a good friend. . ."

"I never liked him," Zafira snapped angrily.

Diego was taken aback by her vehemence. Was her dislike of his amigo caused by the fact that Miguel made it plain he thought the couple had rushed impetuously into marriage? Or was it that he and Miguel had gone out the night before their departure? It had only been a couple of drinks and Diego had been home before midnight. Could she really resent that he had wanted to say goodbye to someone who had been his best friend for nearly four years? If her remark was any indication, it would certainly seem so.

Sighing wearily, Diego took out his pocket watch. "Time for supper," he commented, putting an end to any more conversation about Miguel. He escorted Zafira to the dining room.

Diego introduced his wife to their dinner companions. Everyone was quite gracious, telling Zafira how glad they were that she was feeling better. Diego wondered at his feeling of relief that she was polite and friendly. Especially after hearing a muttered comment made by the first mate, Olvera- something about that he had probably really been keeping her tied up in their cabin as his sex slave. Diego had a hard time not punching the bastard in the nose.

Otherwise the meal and conversation were both very pleasant. Zafira didn't eat much, Diego noted, but at least she ate something.

Eventually the discussion turned to politics. "I say we should support the king," stated Señor Ojala. "He's not perfect, but who would take his place? His brother?" The man shook his wearily. "You know the old saying, ‘better the devil you know, than the one you don't'."

"Some people think we shouldn't even have a king," the captain interjected. "That someone elected by the people would be a better choice, like they do in the United States."

"Madness," replied Ojala. "Can you imagine it? A new ruler every few years? Spain would be in utter chaos."

"You mean it isn't now?" asked Zafira archly. "Why should Ferdinand be running Spain just because of an accident of birth?"

"You almost sound like one of those anarchists who had Segovia under siege," commented Olvera. 

Diego looked sharply at Zafira. Her eyes had grown big with shock. "Segovia. . . What about Segovia?" she managed to get out.

"Rebels tried to take the city a couple of weeks before we set sail," Olvera explained. "The royal army surrounded them, but they wouldn't surrender. Something about holding the city until Ferdinand abdicated."

"So what happened?" inquired Señor Ojala.

"The army cut off all supplies, tried to starve them out," the first mate continued. "People weren't too happy about that and turned on the rebels. I heard that almost all of the revolutionaries were killed."

All the color drained from Zafira's already pale complexion. "Excuse. . .excuse me," she said in a choked voice. "I don't feel well." She threw her napkin onto her plate before getting up and fleeing the room.

Diego could see the confusion on the other's faces. Señora Ojala and the doctor shot him glances of pity.

"Perhaps she just needs some more of the tonic," suggested Saludo. "I can go fetch another bottle. . ."

"No, _gracias_ ," Diego responded politely. "If you will pardon me, I'll go check on her."

Heavy hearted, he traversed the narrow passageway back to their cabin. Quietly, he opened the door, not sure of what he would find inside. It was with a small sigh of relief he saw she was lying on the bed. He grimaced though as he noticed she was curled up in a small ball, sobbing violently.

The loud click of the latch as he shut the door drew the weeping woman's attention. Zafira rolled over to face her husband with eyes full of tears and venom.

"Go away, Diego," she demanded angrily. She grabbed a corner of the sheet to wipe her cheeks. "He's dead, I just can't believe he's dead."

"Zafira, _querida_. . ." he began.

"This is all your fault, Diego de la Vega," she hissed at him as she sat upright. "Joaquin is dead and it's all your fault."

"Joaquin - who's Joaquin?" Diego was sure he either heard wrong or she had misspoke.

Zafira instantly tensed. "Ricardo, I said Ricardo," she declared, then let out a wail of despair. "My brother is dead."

"Zafira, _por favor_ ," Diego pleaded as he knelt down beside the bed and gently stroked her hair. " _Querida_ , we don't know for sure. I'm so sorry, please. . ."

"I should have been there," she murmured, more to herself than to her husband. "I should have been there, then he'd still be alive."

"Hush, don't think like that," soothed Diego. "What could you have done? Ricardo is his own man. He should have realized what he was doing was dangerous." When she looked at him blankly, he added, "He was trying to overthrow the king. He would be a traitor in the government's eyes."

"Don't you dare touch me!" she shrieked. She knocked away his hand. " _You_ think he was traitor too. You always hated him. And now he's dead!" Zafira slapped Diego across his face as hard as she could. "Get out!" she screamed.

He realized then his wife was hysterical and that for now, there would be no reasoning with her.

Diego got to his feet and rubbed his stinging cheek before he spoke. "Very well, I'll go. But I want you to promise me that you won't. . .that you won't do anything rash."

"Get out!" she yelled. "Just get out!" Zafira turned away from him and started crying again.

Diego stood there in the hallway for a few moments, trying to sort out his feelings of shock and disbelief as he listened to his wife's cries of grief. Diego started walking down the passageway, turning the matter over and over in his mind. And one thing kept cropping up as it defied all explanation.

He was positive Zafira had said the name Joaquin instead of that of her brother. _Who was Joaquin?_ And why would she be so upset he was dead?

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - Actually this is one of the few chapters that has no historical quotation or significance behind it. But I thought it aptly described Diego and Zafira's voyage from Spain to California.


	4. Terminus

The next morning, a bleary-eyed Diego stumbled his way to the cabin he was supposed to share with his wife. He had instead uncomfortably slept in one of the life boats, if one could call the tossing and turning he had done sleeping. It had been a long night indeed.

He hesitantly tapped on the door. Not receiving an answer, he rapped again, this time a little more forcefully. "Zafira," he called out as he placed his ear near the door. He could hear her moving about the room. "Zafira, open the door," Diego insisted as he knocked one more time.

The portal was ripped open. "What do you want?" a white-faced, red-eyed Zafira demanded. Diego thought that she had fared no better than he had the previous evening.

"I just came to see if you were alright," he commented. He could tell she was still upset with him but possibly she had calmed down some from the hysterical state she had been in last night.

"I'm just fine, Diego," she stated tiredly. "Now go away." She tried to close the door

"Zafira, _por favor_ ," he pleaded as he wedged his body into the narrow opening. " _Querida_ , I love you.. Please, we need to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you, Diego," she declared, her eyes downcast. Diego had the feeling she didn't dare meet his eyes. She was definitely hiding something, he thought.

"Very well," he said, then pushed his way into the cabin, catching her off-guard. "I do, however, have a few things to say to you. And I want you to listen."

Zafira fell rather than sat down on the narrow bed. Diego abruptly stopped in the middle of the room. It was in total chaos. All the linens had been stripped from the bed and were wadded up in one corner. It looked as though some of them were streaked with blood. Glass from the broken lamp that crunched under his boot heels could explain that, he thought, although he didn't noticed any obvious wounds on his wife.

"What on earth happened?" Diego inquired in an appalled tone.

Zafira looked up at him dully before glancing around the tiny cabin. "I. . . I don't. . .remember," she stammered the obvious lie.

Diego sat down on the bed next to her. " _Querida_ , what is going on? Why?" He waved his hand, indicating the room's destruction. "Zafira, we don't know that Ricardo was one of the rebels who was killed. You have to hold on to the hope that he is still alive until we hear otherwise."

She took a deep breath. "Even if. . . Even if he is still alive, he was probably taken captive," she said, the despair plain in her voice. "He will die a traitor's death." She shuddered slightly before adding, "He is as good as dead."

With that, Zafira collapsed into Diego's arms and started sobbing her heart out. He stroked her hair and back as she soaked the front of his white linen shirt. All of Diego's anger and impatience drained from him as he held his wife. What she had said was probably very true, her brother was dead, one way or another. And did it really matter how? He thought of how he would feel if he were in her place and it were his father or Felipe who were going to. . . 

Diego sighed, clearing the heart-wrenching thought from his mind. He tightened his embrace of the thin, grief stricken woman. She nuzzled her face against his neck, causing totally inappropriate feelings to stir in his loins.

Zafira must have sensed the change in her husband and pulled away from him. "I'll be all right, Diego. Just. . . Just give me a little time, _por favor_?" she pleaded as she attempted to wipe the tears from her pale face.

"Of course, _mi preciosa_ ," he readily agreed. "Take as much time as you like." Diego got to his feet, then down on one knee, taking his wife's hands in his. "I am truly sorry about your brother, Zafira. I want you to believe that. I never hated him. I just didn't know him very well," Diego said as he looked deeply into her blue eyes.

Zafira turned away from his intense gaze, sighing wearily. "I know, Diego," she replied. She extricated her hands from his before returning her regard to him. "I'm tired, Diego."

"Of course, you must rest," he said sympathetically. He once again glanced around at the havoc she had caused in the small cabin. He would just clean it up later, he thought as he watched his wife sink down onto the bed and close her red rimmed eyes. "I love you, Zafira."

"Mmm." Her reply was muffled as she buried her face into her pillow. Diego hesitated, wondering if he should stay with her. But a desire to escape the suffocating confines of the room suddenly overwhelmed him and he strode out the door without a backward glance.  


Z Z Z

An unspoken truce developed between the newlywed couple for the rest of the week. Diego had slept in the lifeboat while Zafira had remained locked in the cabin that first week after she had learned of the rebels' defeat at Segovia. Several times a day, he had knocked on the door only to be answered by muffled sobbing.

At least she was still alive, he had thought, not without a bit of rancor. Finally one afternoon, the door had opened in response to his rapping, and the tear-stained face of his wife appeared.

"Oh, Diego," she had cried as she flung her arms around his neck, clinging tightly. "I'm so, so sorry." She looked up at him, her eyes begging his forgiveness. "I will try to be a good wife from now on, Diego. Please. . ."

The rest of her pleas were cut off as Diego kissed her firmly on the lips. "Oh, _mi preciosa_ ," he murmured once they had moved apart. "There is nothing to forgive. You had to grieve for your brother." He quickly brushed his mouth on hers again. "And I will try to be a better husband from now as well."

She had been well enough by the time they dropped anchor in Havana that she and Diego spent an afternoon exploring the Cuban port. Zafira had once again become the warm, loving woman he had fallen in love with just a few months earlier.

Diego was once more leaning against the ship's railing, really not seeing the vast blue expanse of the Pacific Ocean before him. Zafira had once more suffered from a mild case of seasickness and was resting in their cabin. The week they had spent traveling overland from the Caribbean to the Pacific had been enough time for her to readjust to being on land instead of the constantly rolling sea. Thankfully Doctor Saludo had given him another bottle of the herbal remedy, knowing Zafira would probably have a relapse.

He was glad their journey was almost at an end. Now that he no longer worried so much about his wife's mood swings, Diego began to dwell on the situation in Los Angeles. It must be very bad if his father had wanted him to come home at once. Maybe in the time since he had set sail, whatever situation that had become so intolerable to Alejandro de la Vega had since rectified itself. 

Diego sincerely hoped so. Zafira did not speak often of what would be her new home, which concerned him greatly. To arrive in the pueblo to open warfare would not be the best way to introduce the skittish young woman to the pueblo de Los Angeles.

Sighing heavily, Diego turned away from railing and made his way back down to the cabin he shared with his wife.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "The Legend Begins" written by Robert L McCullough]

Diego leapt out of the carriage before it came to a full stop. " _Gracias_ ," he said over his shoulder to the driver. He walked hurriedly through the gate, his black cape flowing behind him, where he was met by his father and Felipe who had emerged from the hacienda at the sound of the coach's wheels.

"Diego, welcome home," greeted Don Alejandro as father and son embraced each other tightly. The old don then stepped back to look at Diego, his face split with a wide smile.

"I came as soon as I could," Diego explained.

"Well, they put some meat on you I see."

"And filled my head with ideas as well," added Diego with a laugh

"Good, good," replied Don Alejandro, "I can't wait to hear all about it."

Diego finally turned his attention to Felipe who stood behind his father, patiently waiting to be acknowledged. "Well, who's this?" he teased. Inwardly, he was cringing. In the four years he had been away, the cute little boy had grown into the slightly awkward adolescent who now stood before him. Zafira would never change her mind about adopting him, he surmised with a pang.

"Oh, new man I hired." The elder de la Vega caught on to the joke right away and quickly joined in.

"Whatever happened to that little boy, that fellow who was always underfoot?" asked Diego, keeping up the pretense. "What was his name?"

"Felipe?" supplied Don Alejandro.

"That's it," said Diego. "What ever happened to him?"

Felipe placed his hands on his chest, indicating he was Felipe. Diego looked at him with consternation.

"You're Felipe? Ah, that's impossible," he said. Then he held his hand about four feet from the ground. "He was just this tall when I left."

Felipe placed his hand at about the same height as Diego's hand, then brought it up to the top of his head, showing his mentor how much he had grown during the time he had been away.

Diego's smile was tinged with a touch of sadness. "Then give me a hug before you're too big to hold." Felipe eagerly embraced him, a huge grin on his young face.

Diego shot a worried look over the youth's shoulder at his father. "Any change?"

Don Alejandro once again caught on swiftly to his son's question and shook his head. "The boy still can't hear a thing, Diego." 

They could say nothing more as Felipe stepped out of Diego's arms and looked up happily at him. Then Diego was further distracted as just then a large patrol of soldiers thundered by the hacienda, led by a man dressed in civilian clothes of expensive quality. His father turned to stare at the show of power, with Felipe only turning around after noticing the other men had already done so

"What's all this?" Diego demanded to know as the brigade rode by. "What's all this about?"

The old don shook his head again. "It's why I sent for you." 

But before his father could launch into an explanation, an impatient "Diego" came from inside the coach still waiting by the hacienda gate. Don Alejandro gave his son a bewildered look. 

" _Uno momento_ ," said Diego before making his way to the conveyance. He assisted Zafira out of the vehicle and held her hand as he led her up the walkway to his father.

"Diego, who. . ." Don Alejandro began before recognition of the situation set in. Felipe, however, remained confused.

"Father, I would like to introduce you to Señora Zafira de la Vega," Diego declared proudly. "My wife."

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - The noun ‘terminus' has two definitions: 1. ‘place where transportation route ends; a town, city, or location at the end or beginning of a fixed transportation route such as a railroad or bus route. Also called a terminal.' 2. ‘very last place; a point where something stops or reaches it end.'
> 
> The title also has two meanings. The first is obvious, that Diego and Zafira's journey came to an end. The second is more subtle and isn't revealed until much later in the story.
> 
> I used several different titles for this chapter before I settled on this one. The others were so lame I can't even remember them.


	5. A Change of Heart

Zafira curtsied politely as her father-in-law's mouth gaped open in astonishment. She presented him her hand which he graciously took and placed a courtesy kiss upon.

"You got married?" queried the incredulous don. "Without telling me? When? Why?" Then realizing he was being extremely rude to his new daughter-in-law, he smiled at her. "Not that it isn't wonderful, my dear," he stated as he patted her hand. "It's just that I had no idea. Diego, you never said one word about her."

"I'm sorry, Father," replied Diego in a tone that wasn't entirely contrite. It wasn't often he could surprise his father like this. "We were married about three months ago. There just wasn't time to write you with the news before we left Spain."

"I am greatly honored to finally meet you, Don Alejandro," Zafira remarked, smiling up beguiling up at the old don. "Diego has told me so much about you. And this wild land called California," she added.

"The pleasure is all mine," said Don Alejandro, beaming.

Felipe had stood back during the introduction, not wishing to intrude. Well, it was now or never, thought Diego. He indicated the young man to his wife.

"And this is Felipe," he informed her. "The boy I was telling you about." He turned so Felipe could read his lips easily. "Felipe, this is my wife, Doña Zafira. We were married three months ago," he repeated, not knowing if the lad had understood the earlier conversation.

Felipe nodding and bowed gallantly. Diego could see that the smile his wife wore did not reach her eyes and could tell that Felipe noticed it as well.

"Charmed, I'm sure," murmured Zafira, lowering her head. 

Felipe threw a frantic glance at Diego, who realized that the boy couldn't understand what Zafira had said and wasn't sure of how to respond. Diego just nodded, indicating to Felipe not to worry. The youth imitated his mentor's movement then took a step back.

Diego was furious with his wife. Hadn't he told her that Felipe could read lips, but only if he could see the speaker's face? Had Zafira forgotten his instructions or had she deliberately ducked her head? He took a deep breath. He would deal with her later, he thought as he reached out to take her arm.

[parts of the following scene are taken from "The Legend Begins" written by Robert L McCullough]

The quartet strolled through the hacienda's front door. Diego could see that little had changed in the nearly four years he had been away. "Ah, it's good to be home," he said contentedly.

He let go of Zafira's arm and ran his fingers over the keys of the grand piano. His head filled with the new compositions he had learned in Spain that he would have to play for his father. Then Diego remember the soldiers who had ridden by and the reason Don Alejandro wanted him to come home.

"Father, those soldiers, what on earth was that all about?" Diego asked, removing his cape then graciously assisting Zafira with hers.

"The alcalde imposed martial law in Los Angeles six months ago," replied the old don. "Diego, it's just inhuman how he treats the peasants. Confiscating their lands when they can't play his outrageous taxes, public floggings. . ." Alejandro shook his head. "And the other caballeros. . .bah, they sit idly by and do nothing. Just as I was saying to Victoria the other day. . ."

"Victoria?" Diego interrupted his father in a slightly strangled voice. "Victoria Escalante?" It was just the shock that Don Alejandro had mentioned the young tavern owner so familiarly. _Si_ , that was it. Ignoring the confused glare from his wife, he asked, "How is she?" Then realizing the question was rather blunt, Diego added, "I mean, is she still running the tavern? It was such a terrible tragedy. . ."

His father didn't let him continue " _Si_ , Victoria still owns the tavern. She's a woman now."

"She hasn't married or anything?" Diego could hardly believe he was asking the question. Why, after he hadn't thought of her for years, did the mere mention of her name fill him with. . .with such. . . Emotion, he thought, for the lack of a better word. Diego didn't dare meet Zafira's eyes.

"No," his father answered, not sensing the struggle taking place inside his son. "But you should hear how she speaks out against the alcalde. The caballeros are looking forward to seeing you in the pueblo. We need every man we can get. The old don walked over to a table and picked up a long object covered in black silk.

"And you're going to need this," Don Alejandro said as he handed the package to his son.

Diego accepted it with confusion. "And what's this?" he asked. He unwrapped it enough to reveal the hilt of a sword. "A sword?" he inquired incredulously.

"A man has to take care of himself these days," replied the elder de la Vega. 

Diego shook his head. "I don't understand. The pueblo's secure. Those soldiers outside looked rather well-trained."

This time Don Alejandro shook his head. "Indeed," he said. "They don't protect our people, they exploit them. He eyed the weapon in Diego's hand. "You can handle that?" he asked, his voice full of concern.

His son pulled the sword from the black cloth and held it aloft. "Seems a little light, don't you think?

"It's a beginner's weight," answered Don Alejandro. He worriedly added, "Just don't hurt yourself with it, that's all."

Diego smiled wryly before saying, "Father, I think there is something you should know. . ."

"I know," interrupted the old don, "you didn't have time to complete your studies with Sir Edmund." He grasped Diego's left shoulder. "Ah, well, "he continued, "we'll just have to do the best we can." He then turned to his new daughter-in-law.

"You must be exhausted after your long journey, my dear," he said solicitously. He took her arm. "Let me show you to the library where you can rest until Maria prepares Diego's room for the both of you."

Don Alejandro cast a withering look at his son. "We had no idea that Diego would be bringing home a wife, so we were caught quite off guard."

"That is quite alright, " Zafira said. "It sounds like you have enough to do without worrying about me as well. But you are right, I am tired."

The elder de la Vega led the young woman to the library, leaving Diego standing in the foyer. He looked at the sword in his hand and shook his head with a grin. If his father only knew. . .

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene are taken from "The Legend Begins" written by Robert L McCullough]

The next day, Don Alejandro and Diego rode in the pueblo de Los Angeles. Zafira declined her father-in-law's invitation to join them, pleading she was still very weary from the trip. The two men entered the tavern only moments after Victoria had poured the contents of a pitcher of lemonade over the head of a garrison soldier who had been trying to get too friendly with her.

Diego walked into the tavern just as she had turned away from the insolent man and her eyes were filled with fiery anger. Diego was immediately dazzled by her beauty. _This was the little girl he had left behind? Madre de Dios_ , he thought as a lead weight dropped into his stomach. It only grew heavier as he saw Victoria staring up at him with an expression on her face that showed she was clearly attracted to him as well.

Don Alejandro broke the spell between the two of them by speaking. "Diego, you remember Señorita Escalante?"

It took Diego a moment to regain his power of speech and to remember his manners. He lifted one of her small hands to his lips. "Indeed," he finally said. "But you have changed." Inwardly he grimaced and hastily added, "For the better, that is."

"Thank you, Diego," replied Victoria demurely. After an awkward pause she added, "You have changed too. You wear the sword of a caballero."

Don Alejandro smiled proudly. "Hmm, Diego's returned to assume his proper place in the community. Especially now that he's a married man." Diego visibly cringed at his father's words.

"Married?" queried Victoria with an arched brow. The look of interest slowly dissipated from her face.

"Si," replied the old don. "He and Zafira wed just before he left Spain to come home to California. She is still recuperating from their journey but I know she will want to meet you as soon as possible."

"Of course," Victoria said in a tone that definitely lacked enthusiasm.

A man sitting at a table near the kitchen waved his hand at the elder de la Vega then. "Ah, Sebastian. Excuse me." He went over to greet his friend, leaving Diego and Victoria standing there, still staring at each other uncomfortably.

"He's a popular man," stated Diego with a nervous chuckle. But his mind was screaming. _Why, why, why?_ Why did he feel he had made the biggest mistake of his life three months ago? He loved Zafira, he told himself. She was his wife. But why was there this tremendous pull of attraction toward the young tavern owner? This was more than the school boy crush he had had on her before he left for Spain. He felt as though he were drowning and no one was noticing.

Victoria broke their eye contact to glance at his father before returning her regard to the man standing in front of her. "You should hear how he speaks out against the alcalde. . ." she began to say, but just then the soldier she had dumped lemonade upon earlier grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him.

"You owe me an apology," he growled menacingly.

Victoria struggled to free herself. "Let go of me!" she exclaimed. The corporal just laughed and seized her arm with both hands.

Diego grasped the corporal's arm and shoved him away from Victoria. "The señorita said let go!" he interjected, barely keeping his fury in check.

The man shook his finger in Diego's face. "Just who do you think you are?" he demanded.

Don Alejandro jumped up from his friend's table to intervene. "This is my son, Corporal," he said with forced politeness. "He's just returned from Spain." 

Diego took the opportunity to lean in closer to the soldier's face. "Where among other things," he drawled haughtily, "I learned how to treat a lady."

The corporal sneered, "And how to insult the uniform of the colonial military government?"

The elder de la Vega tried to defuse the situation between the other two men by placing a hand on each of their shoulders. "Gentlemen," he began, "let's not let this get out of hand."

The angry soldier pushed Don Alejandro, causing the older man to stumble several steps backward. "Out of the way, sir," he snarled.

This only made Diego's temper grow. "You need a lesson in manners, Corporal," he declared through clenched teeth.

A stout sergeant rushed into the tavern. "What is going on here, Corporal?" he demanded in an authoritative voice.

The soldier waved his finger in Diego's face again. "This man has challenged me," he informed his superior officer.

A wide-eyed Victoria stuck out her chin bravely. "And with good reason too," she spoke up. She gazed up at Diego and smiled. "Thank you, Diego," she added graciously.

"Diego?" inquired the sergeant of Don Alejandro. A big grin burst onto his round face. "Diego de la Vega, your son?"

Diego reached out to shake the sergeant's hand. "Please to meet you, Sergeant." 

"Sergeant Jaime Mendoza," he introduced himself. The trouble-making corporal was squeezed out of the way by the portly officer. "Permit me to welcome you to our pueblo de Los Angeles. And to collect the traveler's tax," he added officiously.

"Traveler's tax?" asked Don Alejandro. "This is preposterous."

Diego decided to mollify another possible volatile situation. "How much is it, Sergeant?" he inquired politely.

"Five pesos," replied Mendoza. "It's not much, but it adds up."

Victoria rolled her eyes before looking up at Diego. "If they could, they would tax the very air that we breath." Having said that, she turned on her heel and walked away from the men.

The sergeant said pensively, "Actually, the alcalde is working on something."

"And what if one refuses to pay such tax?" queried Diego, rubbing his chin.

Mendoza shook his head knowingly. "The alcalde becomes very angry," he stated, "and that is not a pretty sight, Señor."

The sound of two gunshots outside in the plaza interrupted any further discussion of taxes and their payment. Victoria, Diego, his father, and the sergeant all hurried out the tavern door in time to hear the alcalde speak.

"The next shots will not be aimed over your miserable heads," he announced as he strode in front of a line of peasants who had their hands tied behind their backs, "but into your rebellious hearts."

Don Alejandro stepped off the tavern porch. "Alcalde, what's going on here?" he demanded loudly.

The alcalde, Luis Ramone, turned to face his inquisitor. "It's quite simple," he stated. He waved his hand to indicate the bound peasants. "These vermin refuse to pay any portion of their taxes."

"These are poor farmers," said Victoria pleadingly. "They have no money for taxes."

"The fact remains that these disloyal reprobates only understand one thing - force," ground out the alcalde.

The young innkeeper looked up at Diego. "Just don't stand there," she said quietly, "do something."

Diego put up his hand as Ramone continued on with his ranting, "And force is they will get." Then he stepped in front of the commandante.

"Just how does the government intend to spend these new tax revenues?" he inquired, knowing in the back of his mind that they weren't going to be spent on the citizens of Los Angeles.

"You must not know who I am," replied Ramone mockingly.

"Oh, I know who you are all right," retorted Diego sarcastically. "Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Diego de la Vega from Spain." He gave a barely polite bow.

The alcalde struck Diego in the chest with the gloves he held in his right hand. When Diego lifted up his face to glare at him, Ramón smirked.

"You bear the rank of a gentleman," stated Diego through gritted teeth, "why not act like one?"

The commandante smiled contemptuously. "Is that a challenge, de la Vega?" 

"If it were, my sword would be at your throat," answered Diego furiously.

The alcalde's expression became deadly serious then. "Only long enough for my soldiers to put a bullet through your head," he declared as though he might relish the idea.

Diego reached for the sword he wore but his hand was stayed by his father. "Not now, Diego," cautioned the old don.

"Listen to your father," Ramone sneered. "Be careful or you will regret ever coming back to Los Angeles." He stared menacingly at the younger de la Vega for and moment then shouted at his lancers. "Bring the prisoners to the cuartel." He then turned and walked away, following behind as the soldiers herded the peasants across the plaza to the garrison.

Victoria looked up at Diego with admiration in her lovely eyes. "Would you have challenged the alcalde?" she asked him excitedly. He averted his gaze from her face.

"The alcalde has clearly lost his mind," he declared.

Don Alejandro shook his head. "Somebody's going to have to challenge him or we'll lose this pueblo." He grasped his son on the shoulder. "I need something to drink." He started walking toward the tavern as Victoria did the same.

"I think I'll go back home, Father," said Diego flatly.

" _Si_ , of course," agreed the elder de la Vega. "Your bride is probably missing you."

Diego flinched at his father's mention of Zafira. A surreptitious glance at Victoria allowed him to glimpse the confusion in her eyes. He knew she had felt the same jolt of attraction he had earlier. But he was married and he knew that ended the matter for her.

What a cruel hand fate had dealt to him, he thought bitterly as he went to mount his horse, Esperanza. Common sense told him he could not love two women at one time. Or was he just mistaking lust for something more?

Victoria was very beautiful, he mused, and he respected her outspokenness against a corrupt government. He admired her courage at being so young yet running an obviously successful business on her own. She had spirit, another trait he found appealing in a woman.

But Zafira was his wife and he had promised before God to love, honor, and cherish her for the rest of his life. Sighing resignedly, he urged the mare toward the hacienda.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - I think "A Change of Heart" sums up the chapter very well. After seeing Victoria again after so years apart, Diego wonders if he's made a mistake in hastily marrying Zafira. Especially since his wife has changed so much from the woman she was since they married.
> 
> This is also a chapter I renamed several times. The only other one I remember is "Cruelty has a Human Heart." It is a line from William Blake's "A Divine Image"


	6. Rebellious Activity

"Diego," said Zafira petulantly as she entered the library. "You promised me we were going riding this afternoon."

Diego looked up from the book he and Felipe had been perusing to see his wife standing there in her riding habit. She was absently tapping her riding crop against the dark blue fabric of her split-skirt. A quick glance at the clock on the mantel told Diego that the promised hour had come and gone twenty minutes earlier.

"Sorry, _querida_ ," he apologized. "This history of the ancient Egyptians is so fascinating, we quite forgot the time." He smiled at Felipe, who flashed him one back. There was no point in mentioning to Zafira the time he had spent showing Felipe the hidden door located in the back of the fireplace.

Diego stood up and handed the tome to the young boy. "I want you to write me a five page essay on the burial habits of the pharaohs," he said slowly so Felipe could read his lips. It was one of those things he was going to have to get used to doing again now he was home again.

The lad nodded that he understood then sat back in his chair to continue reading. Diego sighed inwardly. He had so hoped that Felipe would have regained his hearing and speech by now. All the doctors the de la Vegas had taken him to had said there wasn't a physical reason for his deafness and muteness.

He turned his attention to Zafira, who was pouting. "I thought you wanted to show me your rancho, Diego,"she remarked impatiently.

"I do, I do," he replied, taking her arm. "Shall we?" Plastering on a cheery smile, he started to led her to the front door.

His wife glanced over her shoulder to glare at Felipe. "You spend more time with that boy than you do with me," she commented before tossing her head in Diego's direction.

He was struck by the venom he could hear in her voice. "He's my responsibility," he said defensively. "It's my duty to insure he receives a proper education."

"Why don't you send him to the Mission school?" Zafira inquired. "Let the priests teach him like the other peasants."

They had reached the front door which Diego opened, allowing his bride pass through it to the front steps. "We did send him to the school for awhile," he answered, keeping his anger in check, "until it became obvious he knew more than the priests did." He stopped and turned Zafira so she was facing him.

"He's a very intelligent young man," said Diego earnestly, "despite his handicaps." He knew the chance was slim he could change her mind about adopting the youth, but he still had to try.

"I don't like the way he looks at me," Zafira said, pulling away from his grasp. "He's impertinent." She walked several feet in front of him before pausing to look over her shoulder seductively. "So, are we going for a ride or not?" she asked sexily. She continued on her way, swaying her hips as she walked.

Diego just shook his head. He didn't know if he would ever get used to Zafira's mood swings. One minute she was a shrew, the next a sultry seductress, and then a sweet, innocent girl. It was hard to know which one she was going to be at any given moment. He was already getting tired of trying to figure her out.

He entered the stables where she was smiling prettily at one of the young hands. The blush on the lad's cheeks meant that Zafira must be really turning on her charm.

"Paco," Diego said, interrupting the one-sided flirtation, "saddle Conchita for Doña Zafira, _por favor_ ," He indicated a bay mare in a nearby stall.

" _Si_ , Patron." The stable boy bowed subserviently before leaving eagerly to get the necessary tack. Diego walked over to Esperanza's stall and stroked her velvety nose. 

" _Hola_ , old girl," he said as she nuzzled his shirt. "Sorry, no treat today." The mare nickered softly and tossed her mane. Diego laughed as he threw her saddle over her back.

His good spirits were short-lived as his father marched into the stables. "The alcalde has taken more prisoners," he announced gravely.

"Damn," muttered Diego under his breath. He looked apologetically over at Zafira. " _Querida_ , I'm afraid we're going to have to postpone our ride."

"But you promised," she whinged. "We can just ride to the pueblo instead, can't we?" She glanced pleadingly over at her father-in-law.

"No," replied Don Alejandro sternly. "Los Angeles is no place for a lady at the moment. I'm sorry, my dear."

"Zafira, he's right," Diego chimed in. "Perhaps another time, when things calm down in town." Privately, he was dreading the day Zafira met Victoria. The longer he could put it off, the more time he had to get over this infatuation he had for the innkeeper. Because that was what it was, just a silly fascination. At least that was what he kept telling himself.

Zafira glared at both men. "Fine," she said in a snit. Swirling around, she stomped out of the stables. Diego watched her go before turning to his father and shrugging.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "Zorro: The Legend Begins" written by Robert L McCullough]

A short while later, the de la Vegas were riding into the pueblo de Los Angeles. The alcalde was sitting at a table that had been set up in the plaza in front of the cuartel. Sergeant Mendoza stood at Ramón's right shoulder, holding a large book from which he was reading out names and charges. A long line of bound men were being held in check by several lancers armed with muskets.

"Alcalde," called Don Alejandro as he and Diego neared the makeshift court. The two men dismounted and walked over to confront the commandante.

"Ah, Don Alejandro," greeted Ramón smarmily, rising up from his chair. "How good of you to come by."

"I need a word with you," stated the elder de la Vega. He and Diego stopped in front of the table.

"Why, I'm quite busy," replied the alcalde mockingly, "but I can always make time for such a distinguished pillar of our community."

"The better part of my life has been spent in this territory, building this pueblo. I have many friends," stated the old don.

Ramone interrupted what was, no doubt, going to be a long tirade. "Are you running for public office, Señor?"

Don Alejandro, upset by the other man's rudeness, declared angrily, "If you go on like this, the caballeros can't guarantee the safety of you. . .or your men."

"You must know many of our people favor revolution against your rule," added Diego, standing with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

"You don't say," retorted the alcalde sarcastically.

"You can't bend all these people to your will," stated the elder de la Vega.

"Ah, I have no intention of bending these people," remarked Ramone as he sat down. He leaned forward and pointed a finger at Don Alejandro. "I'm going to break them if they continue to resist me."

Diego made a rude noise while shaking his head in disbelief. The audacity of the man, he thought. Just who did he think he was? He was nothing but a petty official trying to gain power and wealth on the backs of the poor.

His father must have been thinking along the same lines. "I'm warning you, Alcalde," he cautioned.

"Is that a threat, Señor?" queried the alcalde.

"It doesn't have to be," said the old don. He nodded his head in the direction of the line of peasants. "They'll take things into their own hands."

"If there is anymore rebellious activity, I'll suppress it immediately," stated Ramone autocratically. While he was speaking, a lancer scuttled over to Mendoza and whispered something into the sergeant's ear.

"You can't put everyone in jail," commented Diego.

"No," agreed the Alcalde, "but I can put your father behind bars, and if there's any more trouble, I will. Happily."

Sergeant Mendoza leaned down then and said quietly, "Corporal Gomez just came from the tavern. You better get over there at once."

Ramone slammed his fist onto the table and got to his feet once more. He and the stout sergeant hurried toward the tavern. Diego and Don Alejandro start to follow them, but were delayed by the lancers who were standing guard over the prisoners in the plaza. They too were curious to know what was going on inside Los Angeles's only inn.

"The law should only serve the people, not oppress them," Victoria was saying to Ramone as the de la Vega men entered the tavern. Diego could see the fire in her eyes as she stood up to the alcalde, eyes that captivated him once again.

Ramón was not so enamored of either the señorita or her words. "You are under arrest," he declared, jabbing his finger in front of her beautiful face. He grabbed her upper arm and began to drag her out the door. "Come with me."

Victoria struggled mightily. "Let go of me!" she shouted.

"Come along," said the alcalde, continuing to tug on her arm.

Don Alejandro blocked the other man's path. "Let go of her," he demanded

A nasty grin came over the commandante's face. "Stay out of it, old man," he drawled.

Whether if it was the fact the alcalde was manhandling the daughter of one of his old friends or that he had called him an ‘old man', or perhaps both; something exploded inside the elder de la Vega. He swung his fist dead center into Ramone's face, nearly knocking the other man off his feet and causing him to lose his grip on Victoria. 

"Oh!" exclaimed Victoria as she almost landed on the floor as well. 

Diego tried to step forward but two of the soldiers crossed their muskets in front of him, putting a halt to his progress. The alcalde was holding his nose as he regained his footing. Taking his hand away from his face, he noticed the blood smeared on his glove and smiled evilly.

"You are under arrest," he announced to Don Alejandro. He grasped Victoria's arm again and pulled her toward him. "You come with me. This establishment is under military rule." He glanced around until he found the round face of his sergeant. "Mendoza, you are in charge."

Ramone then proceeded in dragging the outspoken señorita from her tavern; this time his way was not impeded. Mendoza looked around the tavern in a daze, not quite believing his good fortune.

"Me? I'm going to run this tavern?" he uttered in disbelief.

The elder de la Vega was led away by two lancers while Diego could only stand by helplessly as he was still being held back by the two soldiers. Well, they couldn't contain him here all day, he surmised. Sooner or later, they would get bored with their guard duty and let him go. Diego remember his lessons with Sir Edmund. Patience, the wise Englishman had always counseled.

Only a few minutes later the lancers lowered their weapons. "You can go," one of them said. Diego figured his release might have more to do with the wine Mendoza was beginning to pour freely than any perseverance on his part. He wasted no time dwelling on it, instead making his way across the plaza to the garrison.

Diego flung open the door of the alcalde's office and strode into the room. "I demand the release of my father."

"Do you now?" queried Ramone, sitting calmly at his desk.

"I do," replied Diego defiantly. He looked intimidatingly at the Alcalde, causing the other man to get to his feet so he could look Diego in the eye.

"Well, I can imagine how you feel," the alcalde began, "but try to see things from my point of view, Don Diego. Your father is a respected elder in the pueblo. His word carries a great deal of weight."

Diego was not impressed by his explanation. "You don't put a man in jail for that."

"No," Ramone conceded, "but I can put a man in jail for assault on a public official, for interfering with the administration of justice, and for fomenting revolution."

"If my father wanted to lead a revolution, you would have been thrown out of this pueblo a long time ago."

"Then I don't think we have long to wait for him to declare his loyalty to my office," stated the alcalde.

Again, Diego was amazed at the other man's temerity. The de la Vegas were loyal to the crown of Spain He knew his father would never give his allegiance to this petty tyrant. And he would remain behind bars until he did so. Not if he could help it, Diego swore to himself.

"Don't expect me to stand still for this," he warned Ramone before turning to walk out.

"I expect you to be a good son and not get your father hurt," the alcalde said as he sat back down in his chair.

Pausing at the door, Diego fired back, "If you want a fight, you'll get one."

"Ah, Don Diego," said Ramone calmly, "if I have any trouble with the caballeros, I'll know you're behind it." He smiled insincerely as he added, "And there's always room in my jail for another de la Vega." The smile slid smoothly into a sneer.

Diego stormed out of the office, not trusting himself to say anymore. There had to be a way that he could get his father out of prison without the older man having to compromise his integrity. 

And then there was Victoria who also was incarcerated in the alcalde's jail. He shuddered to think what could happen to such a beautiful young lady in such a dreadful place. At least his father was there to keep her from harm, he thought thankfully.

If there was only a way he could secure the release of both of them. But how?

Diego's mind raced frantically as he stalked across the plaza toward the tavern, intending to get something to drink before he headed back home to the de la Vega hacienda.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "Zorro: The Legend Begins" written by Robert L McCullough]

Diego strolled into the tavern where he was greeted by two old friends of his father. He shook their hands before wandering over to the bar where Sergeant Mendoza was pouring drinks, collecting coins, and talking.

"I remember once when I was a young man," Mendoza began his tale, "serving under General Cordoba in the Indian campaigns. I was constantly terrified. We were after a band of renegade Indians, who had been ruthlessly terrorizing. . .the Arizona mission. They would raid a village with warning, and then they would vanish into the prairie. It was like we were chasing phantoms. They would be there one moment and then ‘whoosh'." He waved his hand in the air. "The next they'd be gone."

"Surely trained soldiers weren't frightened by such tactics?" asked Diego, keenly interested in the soldier's story.

"Oh, no, no, it wasn't the Indians we were afraid of," replied the sergeant. "We were always prepared to fight them. It was. . . It was not knowing. And when they attacked at night. . ."

"The dark frightens you, Sergeant?" Diego interrupted. An idea was beginning to form in his mind.

"Señor, at night we couldn't even see their faces," explained Mendoza.

"So it's the unknown that bothers you?"

Mendoza leaned in closer and spoke in a low voice. "A soldier is not trained to deal with the unknown. It is the unexplained, the mysterious, that promotes fear. And fear is a soldier's greatest enemy." He broke the mood by chuckling. "Of course, I have nothing to fear now. Except maybe the wine going bad."

"What about the new alcalde?" asked Diego. "You don't fear him?"

"Oh, no," blustered the sergeant. "Once things settle down, he will be a pussycat."

"Then help me get my father and Señorita Escalante out of jail," Diego requested heatedly.

"Don Diego, as soon as the threat of rebellion has ended, I'm sure the alcalde will release them," said Mendoza reassuredly.

"But until then, what am I supposed to do?" Let them languish behind bars?" queried Diego.

"Oh, it's not so bad," replied Mendoza, a big smile on his face. "Garrison prisoners eat the same food as the soldiers." He chuckled again. "Tonight they're serving _chilebeli_."

Diego shook his head in disgust as he walked out of the tavern. It was obvious that the solider's loyalties were with his commandante. He was wasting his time trying to free his father and Victoria by legal means. 

He was going to have to find another way to get them released.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - This is also a phrase lifted from "The Legend Begins" during a conversation between Don Alejandro and the alcalde:
> 
> Don Alejandro   
> It doesn't have to be. [He nods his head to indicate the line of peasants.] They'll take things into their own hands.
> 
> Ramón  
> If there is anymore rebellious activity, I'll suppress it immediately.


	7. Cunning, Like a Fox

"Where is your father?" asked Zafira when Diego returned to the hacienda a little while later. She was seated on the settee in the library, reading a book.

"The alcalde has thrown him in jail," he replied. 

"In jail?" echoed Zafira, glancing up from her book. "Did you just leave him there?"

"I tried to get the alcalde to see reason and release them," said Diego. "But. . ."

"Them?" Zafira cut into his explanation. "Who else was arrested?"

Diego took a deep breath before answering. "Señorita Escalante," he replied. "She was charged with sedition. My father was charged with assaulting a public official and for fomenting revolution. He punched the alcalde in the nose."

Zafira laughed. "I wish I could have seen that."

"This is not amusing, _querida_ ," Diego asserted sternly. "Ramone intends to keep my father behind bars until the threat of rebellion is over. It could be months before he is released."

"You're right, Diego," she said although she was still smiling. "It's just the thought of a rebellion here in California. . . It is so ludicrous." She giggled.

"You haven't meet this alcalde yet," he replied, trying to keep his anger in check. "He is treating the peasants with extreme cruelty. He is imprisoning anyone who speaks against him. He's. . ."

"He's just a petty tyrant," interrupted Zafira. "You and the other caballeros could easily overthrow him."

"He's threatened to put me behind bars if there is any action is taken by the caballeros," said Diego as some of his fury slipped out. "He'll know I'm behind it and he would be right." He slapped his hand against the library wall. "I have to do something."

Zafira waved her hand dismissively. "I bet your father will be home before dark," she said arrogantly. "I don't why he thinks you are going to make a difference here in Los Angeles. It's just an unimportant colonial outpost. We should be in Madrid. There we could really change things for the better."

"Change things how?" inquired Diego skeptically.

"By overthrowing King Ferdinand," stated his wife. "He is the head of a corrupt government. Only when we remove the head can we kill the body of dishonest and crooked bureaucrats who toady to him and only then can we make a better life for the rest of us."

Diego had often wondered about Zafira and how much of her brother's revolutionary rhetoric had rubbed off on her. Apparently more than he thought, although she sounded like she was just parroting words she had heard many times. How much of it did she really believe?

"But what is going on in the Spanish empire is not a concern for me nor my father at the moment," retorted Diego. "Right now, that ‘petty official' you are so flippant about has my father behind bars. _That_ fact is more important to me more than anything else." He turned away, intending to look for Felipe. 

"You're more of a fool than I thought," sneered Zafira. Diego spun around to face her again Then she realized what she had said and clamped her hand over mouth. .

"I'm sorry, Diego," she said contritely after removing her hand. "I didn't mean it." She placed one of her hands on his arm. "I was just thinking of my brother and how passionate he was for his cause. Forgive me, _por favor_?" She looked up at him, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

Diego sighed, her words still reverberating through his mind. She thought he was a fool. Then why had she agreed to marry him? He shook his head. He had more pressing matters to worry over.

"We're all a little upset right now," he said diplomatically. He patted her hand that rested on his arm. "Excuse me, I have to let our foreman know of my father's absence." He turned again and this time left the hacienda.

[most of the following scene taken from "Zorro: The Legend Begins" written by Robert L McCullough]

About an hour later, Diego had found Felipe and told him the events of earlier that day. Felipe listened wide-eyed when Diego told him of Don Alejandro's imprisonment. They were walking through the hacienda, where, thankfully, Zafira was nowhere in sight. Diego didn't think he could speak rationally to her at the moment.

"I don't know what I am going to do, Felipe," said Diego, wrapping up his story. "I need to get them out of jail in a way that won't cause me to end up joining them." He was surprised how easily the two of them had slid back into their roles as confidants. The four years apart had changed both of them, that was true, but, he thought with a smile, some things would always remain the same between them. He knew he could always trust Felipe with any secret.

Glancing over at the youngster, he could see the lad was thinking hard about his dilemma. Then suddenly, Felipe grabbed his arm and started pointing toward the library.

"What is. . .?" Diego started to say, but since Felipe wasn't facing him, there was little point in finishing his question.

Felipe led Diego to the library's fireplace and pressed the spot under the mantle that Diego had showed to him earlier that day. The back panel swung open.

"Felipe, this is no time for games," Diego said in an exasperated tone.

Felipe shook his head in a manner that told the older man it was no game he was playing. The young man motioned for Diego to follow him through the revealed opening. They emerged at the end of a tunnel that opened up into a large cave. Diego interpreted Felipe's gestures as they stepped into the cavern.

"There's something down here?" asked Diego. He couldn't see anything that would have Felipe getting so excited.

The lad pointed toward a fox who was walking back and forth against the far wall of the cave. The fox was whimpering as it paced.

Diego crouched down and Felipe followed suit. "A fox," stated Diego. Both of them simply watched the animal for a moment or two.

"It's amazing with everyone hunting them for such beautiful pelts," commented Diego, "how those creatures of the night manage to survive."

Felipe pointed again at the fox and made another gesture before pointing at his own head. Diego nodded.

"Yes, cunning and intelligent," he agreed. Diego smiled and patted Felipe on the shoulder. They both stood up then. Felipe had already turned to depart the cave when the fox made a loud cry. The young man quickly whipped his head around to look at the animal. He then cringed as he realized what he had just done.

Diego looked at him oddly. "Felipe, you heard that," he said, more as a statement than a question.

Felipe hung his head down. Diego touched his shoulder. "Felipe, look at me," he instructed. The boy raised his head to glance nervously at his mentor. "You can hear, can't you," inquired Diego although he already knew the answer. He smiled broadly which caused Felipe to visibly relax.

"That's wonderful" he announced before pulling Felipe into a happy embrace. His expression of gladness changed, however, when another thought came to his mind. He ended the hug, but kept his hands on Felipe's shoulders, holding him at arm's length.

"Why didn't you let us know?" he queried gently. Felipe stroked his chin, which was his sign for Don Alejandro, then mimed pushing something away.

"Because of my father?"

Felipe nodded then made some more signals. Diego shook his head. "Felipe," he said, "my father would never treat you differently if he knew you could hear. He loves you. We all do." He patted the youth on the shoulder. "We'll talk of this later," he added.

Felipe went on ahead through the tunnel but Diego paused to stare at the fox again. 

Diego sighed as all the events of the day tumbled through his brain. His father and Victoria Escalante tossed in jail for treason. The alcalde's threat to throw him behind bars if he tried to get the caballeros to help free them. Sergeant Mendoza's story about the mysterious Indians who had hidden their faces when they attacked at night. That the unknown was a soldier's greatest fear. His wife calling him a fool and how wrong she was for thinking he wasn't needed here in Los Angeles. Felipe's discovery of the cunning and intelligent fox in a secret cave.

He turned to leave the cave. A solution to his problems was beginning to form in his mind he trudged back through the tunnel that led to the library fireplace.

Z Z Z

Diego entered his old bedroom he now shared with Zafira and began rummaging through the drawers of his old bureau. Accidentally, he pulled open one he had emptied so his wife could put some of her belongings in it. It was bare.

Surely, there must be some kind of mix-up, he thought. He thought he had seen Zafira put her clothes into this drawer the day after their arrival. So where were her things now?

Pulling open more drawers, he found all four of the ones he had given over to his wife were without contents.

"Zafira?" he called out as he walked out of his bedroom and into the hallway.

"In here, Diego," her voice trilled from the room next door to his.

Diego stopped in his tracks as he entered the room. Zafira and one of the serving girls were placing his wife's things into an armoire. Her hairbrushes and combs were already scattered on the vanity table that had been moved to his room for Zafira's use but obviously now had been transferred yet again to another room.

"What are you doing?" he asked as soon as he had gathered his wits back together.

"Didn't I tell you, Diego?" queried Zafira. "The sunrise wakes me up too early in your room. I asked your father if it would be all right if I used this room instead. Its window faces north, not east." She smiled prettily up at him.

And his father had evidently agreed, he thought. Very well. . . "Let me go get my things. . . " he began.

"Why ever would you do that?" Zafira interrupted archly. 

"I thought. . . I mean we. . . " Diego sputtered bewilderedly. "You mean. . .?"

"I'm sorry, Diego," she said contritely. She set down the hat she had been about to place in the armoire. "Your bed is just too small to hold two people comfortably. I haven't had a decent night's sleep since we arrived here."

Once again Diego was stunned. The narrow, tiny beds in their ships' cabins hadn't bothered her, or at least she hadn't complained to him about them. But suddenly, beds that were over twice their size were ‘too small'. He shook his head in defeat.

"Very well," he conceded. He turned to leave but Zafira stopped him by putting her hand on his arm.

"There is a connecting door between the rooms," she said conspiratorially. "You know, for when the mood strikes us to. . . well, you know." She gazed up at him, her cheeks a rosy pink.

Diego closed his eyes. So far, ‘the mood' hadn't struck her for nearly six weeks. First she had been upset about her brother's likely demise. Then after that, it had been ‘her time of the month.' Then she had gotten seasick again during the short voyage up the Mexican coastline. Then she said she was too tired from their journey since their arrival at the hacienda. A man could only take so much frustration, he was finding out, much to his discomfort.

He decided to call her bluff. "Could tonight be the night?" he asked, trying to hide his impatience. He stepped forward, making his intention to gather her in his arms very clear.

Zafira withdrew from him like she had been burned. "I'm so sorry, Diego," she said. "Not tonight." Her face was even more flushed with embarrassment. "It's my time of the month again," she whispered. She looked up at him with innocent eyes. "I am sorry, Diego. Really."

"It's all right," said Diego. "Perhaps another time then." He bowed to her politely and left the room, returning to his own.

It was just as he thought. She had had no intention of sleeping with him that night. Diego ransacked his room for several minutes until he realized he was just making a big mess. Taking a couple of deep breaths, he willed himself to calm down. His problems with Zafira were nothing compared to his father's imprisonment. 

In control of his temper once again, Diego found the items of clothing he was searching for and lost no time in donning them.

Z Z Z

[most of the following scene taken from "Zorro: The Legend Begins" written by Robert L McCullough]

A black clad figure skulked around in the de la Vega hacienda, moving warily as it stayed hidden in the shadows. Coming around a corner, a man with a black mask covering half his face confronted Felipe. The youth moved several steps backward as the bandito approached him. The man smiled and chuckled.

"It's me, Felipe," said the bandit who had Diego's voice. The young man was staring at him skeptically. "Really," added Diego, lifting the mask so Felipe could see it was him.

Felipe let out a sigh of relief. Diego laughed again.

"Please to see it's so effective," he said, after pulling the mask back down over the top half of his face.

Making a gesture over his eyes, Felipe shook his head as if to ask why.

"A disguise will protect our friends from any governmental retribution," explained Diego. "I'll need something to conceal myself a bit more."

He spun around and then faced Felipe again. "Perhaps a cape," he suggested, smiling excitedly. 

Felipe grinned for a moment before his countenance changed to one of concern. He hung his head down, obviously bothered by something.

Diego walked toward Felipe. "What's wrong, Felipe?" he inquired gently.

Felipe pointed at Diego, then to his own lips, pointed to Diego again, then stroked his chin, then pointed to his right ear.

Diego put his black gloved hands on Felipe's shoulders. "Without knowing it, you may have done us all a great service," he said. Felipe looked up at him in confusion.

"We'll keep the cave a secret," said Diego. "And your hearing."

Felipe made a series of gestures that the other man interpreted.

"Yes, from both my father and my wife," Diego said bitterly. The fewer people that knew of what would happen tonight, the better, he thought as he drew out the sword from the sheath that hung from his belt.

"This will be our secret too," declared Diego. "Not even my father knows of this. Nor does Zafira. It was given to me by Sir Edmund Kendall, my fight master."

Felipe's eyes grew wide as he admired the saber. He reached out and touched the blade, pricking his finger. He pulled his hand away and put the injured finger in his mouth.

"Ah, sharp," said Diego with a chuckle. "Strong too."

Taking his finger from his mouth, Felipe then made slashing motions with his hands.

Diego turned around and walked toward a credenza where two candelabra were aglow with lit candles. 

"Yes, I know," he said, deciphering the younger man's signals. He added thoughtfully, "I must convince people I am weak-willed." Spinning around, he faced Felipe again. "A bit too studious."

Felipe nodded in agreement.

"Like the fox that is timid and frail," said Diego, clenching his fist in the air as he spoke, "so do I share his instinct for survival."

He pivoted around again, brandishing his sword. With the tip of his blade, he snuffed out the flames of six candles in the nearest candelabra. Felipe looked on, very impressed. It was no longer Diego de la Vega who turned again to face the youth.

"Justice will be ours," declared Zorro, a determined look on his masked face as he saluted with his sword.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - The title is a corruption of the cliche ‘crazy like a fox' and a phrase from "The Legend Begins" that Diego says to Felipe upon finding a fox in the cave. "Yes, cunning and intelligence." I put them together and got ‘cunning, like a fox'.


	8. Prison Break

[most of the following scene is taken from "Zorro: The Legend Begins" written by Robert L McCullough]

About an hour later, Felipe drove a wagon load of loose hay through the pueblo gate. As the wagon neared the cuartel, Zorro emerged from under the straw and hopped out. He scaled the side of the building and once atop it, walked across its tile roof. 

Using a conveniently located skylight, Zorro dropped down through it onto the rafters, and landed soundlessly on the floor of the Alcalde's unoccupied office. He went over to the door that led to the cells and opened it. Seeing his father and Victoria sitting on their cots, deep in conversation, he sighed with relief. They had come to no harm.

" _Buenas noches_ ," greeted Zorro as he entered the jail area. He changed the timbre of his voice, making it deeper and his Castilian accent a little less noticeable. He could tell by the way Victoria and Don Alejandro got to their feet and stared at him, they did not recognize him at all.

"Who are you?" asked his father warily.

"What are you?" Victoria queried inquisitively.

"A creature of the night. Like a fox," declared Zorro. Then he gave a little bow. "El Zorro." 

"El Zorro?" Victoria's tone was full of curiosity.

The man in question walked across the front of their cells. "Perhaps you'd like to leave," he suggested.

"How do we know you don't work for the alcalde?" challenged Don Alejandro. The elder de la Vega glanced over at Victoria. "Maybe he just wants an excuse to shoot us."

_Over my dead body_ , Zorro thought. Aloud, he said, "Then he'll have to shoot me first." He reached out a black gloved hand and snatched a key ring from its nail.

"If it's freedom you want, follow me," said the masked man as he unlocked first Victoria's then Don Alejandro's cell doors. Zorro casually tossed the key ring back across the jail, where it landed neatly on its nail, before leading the way out of the cell block.

Victoria and the old don looked at each other in amazement for a moment. Then Don Alejandro grabbed his jacket, putting it on as he and Victoria walked out of their cells.

Zorro cautiously opened the wooden door that led outside, checking to make sure the coast was clear. He held the door so his father and Victoria could pass through it. Don Alejandro ran toward the church without a second glance.

But Victoria took her time, moving by the man in black very slowly, staring up intently at his masked face. Zorro took a deep breath and could smell the spices and peppers that lingered on her clothing and hair. The scent was warm and inviting as was the look he saw in her lovely brown eyes.

_Madre de Dios_ , he thought as feelings he had hoped to suppress came bubbling back up to the surface. He was married, he scolded himself sternly. Ah, but the beautiful señorita does not know that, another part of his brain whispered. He was her rescuer, her hero. 

Victoria stumbled a little, breaking their eye contact. With one last glance, she started running in the same direction that Don Alejandro had taken.

And without a moment to lose, thought Zorro as he spotted a shadow out of the corner of his eyes. He stepped back inside the cuartel, closing the door until just a thin crack was visible. The shadow had turned into a lancer who had his hand on the hilt of his sword and who was peering into the darkness in the direction the two escapees had just fled.

Zorro opened the door and tapped the soldier on the shoulder. When the soldier spun around to see who had touched him, Zorro punched him in the face, knocking the lancer to the ground.

Zorro had taken about three steps to his left when he sensed presence behind him. Whirling around, he saw it was a terrified Sergeant Mendoza.

"Oh, my God, it's a demon!" shrieked the frightened sergeant. Behind him, Ramone strode through the front door of his office. He stopped in his tracks as he saw the masked man in black standing in front of the open door of the garrison.

Zorro smiled and tipped his head politely. "I am Zorro," he announced to all present.

The alcalde snarled at the other man before charging at him, sword drawn. Zorro unsheathed his saber and parried Ramone's wild attack. The two exchanged blows until Zorro blocked a thrust from the alcalde and used his sword to press down the other man's blade. Ramone struggled to lift it but could not.

Zorro's smile grew even wider as the alcalde's anger grew deeper. "I do wish I could stay for such sport," the masked man said mockingly, "but I really must be going."

He hacked off the blade of Ramone's sword just mere inches from its hilt. The Alcalde gazed down at it in horror, no doubt feeling as emasculated as Zorro had intended him to feel.

"I look forward to our next encounter, Señor," said Zorro, raising his own blade in a salute. His cape swirling, he turned and departed, leaving the alcalde and his lancers staring at him in disbelief.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "Zorro: The Legend Begins" written by Robert L McCullough]

It was nearly dawn before Zorro and Felipe arrived back at the secret cave. They had narrowly escaped being detected by the soldiers who were scouring the pueblo looking for the bold outlaw who had helped their prisoners escape and who had defeated their commandante so soundly.

After changing out of his black clothing, Diego emerged from the back panel of the fireplace, buttoning up his white linen shirt. He stepped out into the library, glancing around to make sure nobody was watching him. He then strolled across the foyer just as Don Alejandro and Victoria burst through the front door.

"Diego!" Don Alejandro called out.

"Hello, Father," said Diego nonchalantly as he kept walking past. He took a couple more steps before doing a double take and spinning around to face the old don and Victoria. 

"Father! What are you doing here?" inquired Diego with false curiosity.

Victoria replied excitedly, "Your father and I escaped from the jail. It was incredible."

"But how did you. . .?" Diego pretended to be at a loss for words.

"A man in a mask came in and released us," explained Don Alejandro. "He was dressed in black with a long flowing cape. . ."

"And a whip. . ." added Victoria.

Don Alejandro raised his fist as if brandishing a weapon. "And a sword."

Diego eyed the pair skeptically. "A masked man? Really?" he questioned them in a voice full of disbelief.

"It's true," replied Victoria, a bit affronted by Diego's attitude. "How do you think we escaped?"

"What about the alcalde?" queried Diego worriedly. "The soldiers?"

"He overpowered them all single-handed," Don Alejandro declared dramatically.

Diego couldn't quite suppress a smile. "That is impressive," he said. "Who is he?"

"He said his name was. . ." His father looked over at Victoria for help.

Victoria glanced over at Don Alejandro before answering, "El Zorro."

"Zorro," echoed the elder de la Vega. 

"El Zorro? A fox?" Diego asked sardonically as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Yes," said Victoria, tilting her head to one side and smiling dreamily. "And like a fox, he disappeared into the night."

Diego's mind reeled at bit. Neither Victoria nor his father seemed to have any notion he had been their masked rescuer. And the lovely innkeeper was definitely very intrigued by the alter ego he had created. He felt a heady mixture of power and temptation surge through him with that knowledge. 

"Well, the alcalde must be enraged," he said.

Don Alejandro waved his hand. "Bah!"

"If only. . ." Victoria began pensively. "If only we could find this man in black. This Zorro. Well, he could help us fight the Alcalde."

"I wouldn't count on that, Señorita," said Diego, playing devil's advocate. " The man sounds like a brigand to me."

Victoria glared at him scornfully. "I wish you could have seen him. Then you'd know what a true hero looks like," she said.

Diego looked at her with a bland expression on his face, even though her words had stung him. 

Don Alejandro interrupted his thoughts. "Diego, there's going to be a meeting of the caballeros tomorrow," he stated.. "Until we can do something about this tyranny, better stay out of the alcalde's way." He put his hand protectively on Victoria's back.

"Sounds like good advice," replied Diego.

The old don led Victoria away to one of the guest rooms. Diego watched them leave, exhaling deeply. His relief was short-lived, however.

"Who was that woman with your father?" asked Zafira. He spun around to find his wife standing behind him, dressed in her nightgown and robe. 

"That was Vi. . .Señorita Escalante," he answered. "She and Father have escaped from jail."

"I thought I heard them say something about a fox," Zafira said before stifling a yawn. "How could a fox help them break out of prison?"

Diego sighed before explaining. "It wasn't an animal. It was a masked man who said his name was Zorro."

His wife giggled. "Zorro? Why would an outlaw called himself a fox?" she inquired. "That's just silly."

"What makes you so sure he is a criminal?" Diego was curious to know. Zafira seemed to have a strange sense of right and wrong sometimes.

"He helped your father and that woman escape," she said with a shrug. "What else would he be?"

"Maybe he is a man of justice who doesn't like to see people falsely accused and imprisoned." Diego didn't mean for his words to sound so hostile but he couldn't stop them.

"But they weren't wrongly accused," said Zafira. "Your father _did_ hit the Alcalde. And this. . . this Escalante woman _was_ spouting treason."

"You weren't even there," Diego pointed out. "What she said wasn't any different than anything you or your brother have said before about the king."

"How dare you bring up my brother?" Zafira's face grew red with ire. "His cause was just and true." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Diego, but your father and this woman are just causing trouble. There is nothing to be gained from tangling with petty local officials."

More rhetoric from her brother and his friends, no doubt, thought Diego. Why couldn't she see what was going on here in Los Angeles was the same thing that was happening in Madrid? It made more sense to him to eliminate the tyranny at the lower levels of the government instead of trying to bring the whole system crashing down from the top. It seemed while he and his wife were aiming toward the same goals, they were at crossed purposes at how to achieve them. 

All the more reason for him to keep his new identity a secret from her, he mused. 

"Well, I better go get dressed," said Zafira.

Diego stared at her disheveled appearance then. Despite her mussed hair and faded flannel wrap, she did look quite desirable. Suddenly, the exhilaration he had felt earlier when he had returned from his night-time adventure came flooding through his body again. He took a step toward his wife.

"I can think of something else we could do," he drawled suggestively, "that would require getting undressed."

"Diego!" Zafira sounded shocked. "It's morning!"

"So what?" he said, casually tossing out her argument. "I want you now, Zafira. There is nothing wrong with that."

"But it's not proper," she stated a bit agitatedly.

Diego pulled her into his arms. "You are my wife," he said vehemently before crushing his mouth to hers.

His hands slid down to the swell of her bottom and he pressed her against his hardening length. It wasn't until he tasted her tears he realized she was whimpering and struggling to get free of him. Appalled at his behavior, he thrust her an arms' length away.

"Oh, God, Zafira, I'm sorry," he apologized breathlessly. And he was. He had nearly ravished her right there in the hacienda foyer. And, if he was going to be honest with himself, it wasn't even Zafira he really wanted. _She_ was just down the hallway, sleeping blissfully in one of the guest rooms. 

Diego turned his face away, unable to look his wife in the eye. Zafira could never know about these feelings he had for the beautiful innkeeper. He glanced at her in time to see her clutch her robe tightly against her throat. 

"How dare you touch me like that," said Zafira through clenched teeth. "Never do that again, Diego. Never."

She stormed off to her bedroom. Diego stared after her for a few moments before turning and walking into the library. He pressed the spot on the mantle and the back panel opened to reveal Felipe. The slightly accusatory look at the boy's face told him that the youth had witnessed the encounter with his wife. 

Diego sighed wearily. He had to get away from here, he thought. The situation with both Victoria and Zafira under the same roof was too explosive. Then an idea popped into his mind and he smiled at Felipe.

"The alcalde must be distracted," declared Diego, hoping to do the same thing with the lad. "I think if we can get a good horse, this Zorro will be the man for the job."

At the mention of finding a horse, Felipe's expression changed from one of disapproval to one of excitement. Diego patted the young man's shoulder, then they both turned and went back through the opened fireplace panel to the cave.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - The Fox TV series "Prison Break". When I was writing this story in 2006, it was (and still is) one of my favorite shows. The fact that it was a perfect title for this chapter made it feel like an inside joke.


	9. Arresting Developments

[parts of the following scene taken from "Zorro: The Legend Begins" written by Robert L McCullough]

It wasn't until mid-afternoon that Diego and Felipe arrived back at the secret cave with the big black stallion they had captured. Before they had left on their horse-hunting expedition, Diego had sent Felipe out for the things they would need to take care of a horse in the cave while he had cleared out a spot to use as a stall. Diego was surprised by how soon the youth had returned with the hay, oats, tack, and grooming brushes they would need.

"Did anyone see you?" he had asked.

Felipe had shook his head and grinned. Diego was a little concerned by how much the boy had obviously enjoyed ‘borrowing' the items from the de la Vega stables.

Diego was petting the stallion's nose as Felipe used one of the currying brushes he had pilfered. "I think he has Andalusian blood," he commented as he inspected the animal. "Look at his convex nose." He stroked his hand down the horse's forehead. "His broad chest, the clean line of his legs, his long neck," he said as he pointed to each area. "They all indicate Andalusian parentage somewhere in his pedigree." 

Walking along side the stallion's hindquarters, Diego ran his hand over them. "No branding marks," he observed. He came around back to the animal's head, noticing it seemed to be quivering with anticipation. 

"Do you think he senses the task ahead?" Diego asked Felipe. "Wants to be part of it?"

Felipe nodded as he continued brushing. Diego looked at the horse admiringly.

"What do you think we should call him?" inquired Diego. He himself was at a loss for a name.

Felipe looked over at Diego then appraisingly at the stallion. Then suddenly inspired, he used the hand he held the brush in to make a spiraling motion.

"He does run like the wind," Diego interpreted, looking back at the horse.

Felipe shook his head and repeated the spiraling motion as he blew air out of his mouth.

Diego still didn't quite catch on to what the youth was trying to tell him. "And he appears out of nowhere like a sudden storm," he guessed.

Felipe once again made the spiraling motion, this time more exaggerated, blowing air as well. Diego had to think for a moment.

"Toronado," said Diego, a little uncertainly.

Felipe nodded, an excited expression on his face.

"Toronado," Diego repeated. "We should call him Toronado. Very good." He looked over at the horse again

"Toronado," he reiterated to the horse. "What do you think of your new name, boy?"

The newly christened Toronado bobbed his head and snorted. Diego laughed as he glanced over at Felipe who was grinning broadly.

"I think he likes it," stated Diego.

Their celebration was short-lived, however, by a loud pounding on the front door of the hacienda. Diego stared over at Felipe.

"Who could that be?" he wondered out loud. Deep inside, he was fearful that it was the alcalde's men and they were coming to arrest him. That somehow they had found out he was Zorro and were going to take him away and hang him. And any accomplices he might have, he thought as he saw the dread in Felipe's eyes as well.

Diego hurried over to the viewing hole and peered through it. He swore under his breath that he could not see the front door, only the library, the bit of the foyer adjacent to it and into the parlor. He held his breath as he saw a servant lead the alcalde and several lancers into the parlor. His worst nightmare had just come true.

And then it got worse. "Search the premises," ordered Ramone. The soldiers nodded and took off, their muskets at the ready.

The alcalde used the time to inspect the de la Vega hacienda. It was the first time to Diego's knowledge the commandante had been inside his home. Diego's blood boiled as he watched the man pick up and appraise almost every knickknack in the parlor and foyer. 

It wasn't long until the lancers returned. Two of the men were dragging his father, who was red-faced and very angry. "What are you doing here?" the old don demanded stridently.

"What are you doing here?" countered Ramone. "You are supposed to be locked up in my jail, not living in the lap of luxury in your magnificent hacienda." His face twisted into a sneer.

Diego's fury grew even more as he saw two more lancers leading Victoria and Zafira into the room. The soldier who was gripping his wife's arm stepped forward.

"This one claims she is married to Don Diego," he declared.

"Is she now?" the alcalde asked rhetorically. He came over and leered at Zafira. "She is quite pretty," he said as he lifted her chin with his gloved hand. "Let her go," he commanded. "She is not a part of this."

The lancer let go of Zafira, who immediately rubbed her arm where he had been holding her. "I told you so," she said childishly to the soldier.

Then Ramone turned his attention to Victoria. "Ah, Señorita Escalante," he said with an insincere sigh before tutting his tongue. "What am I to do with you?" He touched her chin as he had Zafira's.

Diego's ire boiled even closer to the surface. How dare the man touch Victoria, he thought violently. Then he realized that the alcalde had touched Zafira the same way and it had not bothered him.

Zafira had nothing to do with the escape, he told himself, while Victoria could be in serious trouble. Deep down though, he knew he was lying but he refused to admit to himself he actually cared more about what happened to the lovely innkeeper than he did his own wife.

Victoria glared at the alcalde defiantly but didn't say anything. Diego could tell she was frightened under her bold exterior.

"Since you are still quite young," began the commandante, "and therefore easily influenced by others. . ." He glanced over at Don Alejandro who was still struggling to be free from his captors. "You are hereby pardoned, Señorita." 

Ramone then leaned down and put his lips close to her ear. Diego saw Victoria shudder with revulsion as she no doubt could feel the man's breath on her neck 

"But be warned, Señorita," he cautioned. "Anymore of your seditious speeches and I will hang you, no matter how beautiful you are."

The alcalde moved away from Victoria then went over and sat down on the edge of one of the antique tables that Diego's mother had brought with her from Spain. Diego seethed with rage at how disrespectfully the man was treating the treasured object.

"Get your behind off that table," growled Don Alejandro, voicing his son's exact sentiments. Ramone just smiled evilly at the elder de la Vega and kept his bottom firmly planted.

"Do you have a warrant for this outrage?"challenged Don Alejandro.

The commandante pointed his finger at the old don. "The only warrant you're going to see is the one calling for your execution in the morning," he announced calmly.

"Execution!" his father interjected angrily. "Resisting your tyranny is no crime."

"No, but breaking from jail is a capital offense, Señor," declared Ramone. "One for which you and the peasants who aided in that effect will be hung in the morning." He waved his hand at the lancers holding the elder de la Vega. "Take him away."

The two soldiers marched Don Alejandro out of the hacienda. Ramone sat smugly for a moment before getting up and following them. 

Diego slapped his hand against the cave wall. "They're arresting my father!" he shouted, not caring if anyone heard. Fortunately, Victoria and Zafira had already gone back to their rooms.

He spun around so fast that Felipe jumped back and put his arms in front of himself for protection, eyeing his mentor warily.

Diego stopped in his tracks as he realized the boy thought he was going to hit him. Which was odd since neither he nor his father had so much as spanked him in the seven years Felipe had lived with them. Shoving that mystery aside to mull over later, he came back to the matter at hand. 

"Well, someone has to stop the alcalde!" he yelled in frustration.

Felipe nodded and then used his finger to trace the letter ‘Z' in the air. Diego immediately caught on.

"Zorro," he said with more calmness than he felt. Diego looked over at Felipe. "I need to check on Zafira and Señorita Escalante first," he told the youth. Felipe nodded again.

Diego again peeked through the viewing hole before he hurried off, exiting the cave.

Z Z Z

Moments later, Diego had made his way down the hallway that led to the hacienda bedrooms. He knocked on his wife's door.

"Zafira," he called out. "What's going on? I thought I saw soldiers riding away." There was no response. Where on earth could she be, he wondered. He had just seen her come this way. "Zafira?" he asked as he rapped once more.

Hearing a door open behind him, Diego turned around and saw Victoria as she emerged from the guest room she had been using.

"Don Diego," she said, tears shimmering in her eyes. "It's terrible. They've arrested your father." She walked up to him and placed one of her hands on his arm. A jolt of desire shot through his body. "Don Diego, they are going to hang him in the morning."

Diego didn't have to pretend to be outraged. "What?" he asked fiercely. "On what charge?"

"Escaping from jail," explained Victoria. She looked up guilty at him. "The alcalde pardoned me," she added, tightening her grip on his arm. "I am so sorry, Don Diego."

He saw she was truly contrite that she was free while his father faced a death sentence.

"It's not your fault, Señorita," he said, placing his other hand on top of hers. "This alcalde is completely irrational. He could as well had you executed and set my father free."

"We have to do something to save Don Alejandro," stated Victoria, the tears threatening to spill down her cheeks. "He's been like a father to me these past few years."

Diego nodded. He had come to realize that the elder de la Vega had kept a parental eye on the daughter of his old friend, Alfonso Escalante, since the news of his death had reached Los Angeles. 

"What is going on out here?" queried Zafira, opening the door of her bedroom.

Diego disentangled his arm from the lovely innkeeper's hand. "The señorita was just telling me that my father is going to hang tomorrow," he replied testily, sorely missing the comfort Victoria's touch had given him.

"Oh, that." Zafira waved her hand dismissively. "I wouldn't worry if I were you."

Diego was shocked by his spouse's cavalier attitude. "How can you say not to worry?" he asked, barely keeping his anger in check. "The man is clearly insane. If he says my father is going to hang in the morning, he means it."

"Don Alejandro is an important man in this community," declared Zafira. "Executing him would bring the wrath of the Spanish government down on this alcalde's head. No one would be that foolish."

"But Señora," began Victoria. "He _is_ that foolish. Don Diego is right, his father is going to die. We have to do something to help him."

Zafira just stared at Victoria, an expression of distaste marring her face. She haughtily turned her head and looked up at Diego. 

"I'm right," she said. "You just wait and see."

With that said, she stepped back into her room and firmly shut the door. Diego had half-expected her to stick her tongue out at them. He turn to Victoria with a look of apology.

"I don't think your wife likes me," she said unnecessarily. 

"She's having a rough time," Diego responded, feeling he had to explain Zafira's actions toward the other woman. "Moving from Spain to California has been traumatic for her."

"Of course," Victoria replied charitably.

Diego smiled wryly at her. "Perhaps your masked hero will hear of this," he said at bit teasingly, "and save my father."

"Don't be surprised if he does," said Victoria fervently. "Wait until you see him in action, Don Diego. He wields a sword like no one you have ever seen before." She let her gaze grow dreamy as no doubt she was reliving Zorro's rescue of her.

Diego felt an odd sense of jealousy filling his heart. But it was absurd. He couldn't be envious of himself, could he? A glance over at the lovely señorita told him he obviously could be.

Victoria again put her hand on his arm, gaining his undivided attention. "I wonder if you could escort me back to the pueblo?" she requested. 

"But doesn't the alcalde still have your tavern under military rule?" Diego asked worriedly. "Will he allow you to stay there, do you think?"

"He'd better," said the innkeeper bitterly. "All my possessions are still there." She turned her anxious countenance up to look at him. "He can't keep my tavern. It's all I have left of my parents." She began to wipe at the tears that started streaming down her cheeks.

Diego's heart was filled with pity for the beautiful young woman. She had gone through hardships people twice her age could have never dealt with and come out as strong as she had. Zorro was definitely going to save his father and make sure that Victoria got her business back. 

Glancing briefly at his wife's bedroom door, he nodded at Victoria. " _Si_ , Señorita, I'll take you back to Los Angeles," he said, gallantly offering her his arm.

" _Gracias_ , Don Diego," she replied with a smile as she looped her arm through his. Diego threw one more glance at Zafira's door. Once this was all over with, he was going to have a talk with her.

But he had more pressing problems at the moment, he thought as he lead Victoria to the front door. His father needed to be rescued from the Alcalde's gallows and there was only one man for the job. . .

_Zorro_.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - The TV series "Arrested Development" which was airing on Fox in 2006 when I was writing this story. I loved this show, even not many other people did. I thought it was one of the funniest things to ever hit the airwaves. And again, the fact it was a perfect title for this chapter made it too irresistible not to use.


	10. The Da Vinci Flight

It was over an hour later before Diego returned to the hacienda. He immediately went in search of Felipe. Usually in the early evening, the youth was in the library, working on whatever essay Diego had assigned him in the morning. A half-written composition and an open book on the writing desk told him the lad had been there but was no longer. 

Diego glanced quickly over his shoulder before tapping the mantle. The back panel of the fireplace swung open and he ducked through it in one fluid motion. Emerging from the tunnel into the cave, he saw that Felipe wasn't there either.

The horse, Toronado, whinnied out a greeting. Diego walked over to the stall. As he drew closer, he noted that the stallion seemed nervous about something, as it pawed the ground and began neighing loudly. Diego looked down and saw Felipe, curled up on the bags of oats, fast asleep.

Bending over, he shook the lad's shoulders. "Wake up, Felipe," he said firmly.

The young man's eyes flew open and he sat up with a jump. That was when Diego noticed the swelling and the beginning of a bruise on his right cheek.

"What happened?" he demanded, very upset that anyone would hit the lad. 

Felipe turned his face away, rubbing the injured cheek. Diego crouched down and used his fingers to lift the boy's chin to inspect the damage. "Who did this to you?" he inquired at bit less harshly.

Felipe shook his head and tried to avert his eyes. But Diego wouldn't let him. "Felipe, please tell me who hit you," he pleaded. "Was it one of the ranch hands?"

Again, the youth shook his head. Taking a deep breath, Felipe made the gesture they used for a woman.

Diego was surprised by the boy's revelation. "A woman?" he queried. "Who? Maria?"

Felipe once again made the sign for woman and then slashed the letter ‘Z' in the air.

"Zafira?" said Diego, his shock growing even more. "Zafira hit you?" Felipe nodded. Diego digested this information for a moment. "Why? Why did she hit you?"

Felipe launched into a long series of hand signals, telling the story of how Zafira had been looking for Diego and when he couldn't tell her where Diego had gone, she had accused him of lying and had slapped his face. It wouldn't have been so bad, explained the boy, using gestures, if had not for the large ring she wore on her left hand.

Diego's stomach churned at the mention of the ring. The signet ring he had used for a wedding ring. The one he hadn't gotten around to replacing with a more appropriate ring. Like the ring of emeralds and diamonds his mother had bequeathed to him to give to his wife when he married.

Diego placed his hands on Felipe's shoulders. "She shouldn't have hit you," he began apologetically. "I'm going to have a long talk with her about this after we free my father." This and several other things, he promised to himself.

Felipe nodded that he understood, then Diego assisted him to his feet. They walked up the step into the main room of the cave. 

"I have to go to my room to get some things," Diego stated. "I will need your help when I get back."

The youth looked up at him, his eyes full of curiosity. Diego chuckled. "I have a plan," he declared

[parts of the following scene taken from "Zorro: The Legend Begins" written by Robert L McCullough]

In less than half an hour, Diego walked back into the secret cave, carrying a scroll and yards of black silk. He spread the fabric out on an old wooden table that he had found in a corner of the cavern. Diego unrolled the paper and poured over the sketch it contained. He then set the plans down on the table in front of him.

"All right," said Diego. "Let's just see if I have enough." He pointed to the other end of the table as he lifted the opposite end of the silk.. "Hold this up."

Felipe raised up his end of black fabric, then they both spread it back out on the table. Diego started to mark on it with a piece of chalk which he had also brought with him earlier.

"You know, this cave is the perfect place for such work,"Diego commented. "I think we'll be able to fit a small laboratory in here if we try."

Felipe gestured questioningly at the black fabric then shook his head. Diego took it as an indication the boy didn't understand what they were about to do.

"While I was at the university," explained Diego, " I studied the theories of Leonardo da Vinci, including his principles of winged flight."

Felipe began flapping his arms like a bird as Diego resume chalking marks onto the fabric.

Diego smiled as he looked over at Felipe's arm waving. "Not exactly like a bird," he said. "But I think I'll be able to make an entrance spectacular enough to convince the Alcalde's men of my mysterious powers."

He continued draw lines on the silk with the chalk as Felipe watched. Diego picked up the plans when he reached the area where they were resting.

"Just hold this for a moment, would you?" he asked at he handed the paper to Felipe.

The young man took the sketch and held it up at an angle so Diego could see it.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "Zorro: The Legend Begins" written by Robert L McCullough]

It took most of the night for the two of them to complete what Diego had termed a glider. When it was done, Felipe was sent out to get the wagon from the de la Vega stables. Diego used the time to check on his wife. Zafira did not stir as he stared down at her sleeping form in her bed. Stealing into her room had been easy, he thought, wondering where he had developed his ability for stealth. 

Shrugging his shoulders, Diego left his wife's room and returned to the cave. He quickly donned his costume for the second time, tying his cape around his shoulders as Felipe activated the back entrance of the cave. The sun was just beginning to peer over the eastern horizon when they got the glider loaded into the wagon and headed toward Los Angeles.

"You must drive the horses as fast as they can go," Zorro instructed Felipe when they had stopped about a mile from the pueblo. "I will need the air current their speed produces to lift the glider into to the air." Felipe nodded. 

Zorro arranged the glider in the back of the wagon and tied a rope under the wagon's seat. He then held onto the rope as he positioned himself under the glider.

"Go!" he shouted. Felipe whipped the reins and the two horses took off, slowly at first but gradually building up speed.

Zorro clutched onto the bar of his glider as the wagon went faster and fasted toward Los Angeles. The wind buffeted the wings of the glider as they drove down the road. Sensing the horses had reached their maximum speed, Zorro let go of the rope.

The glider lifted off the back of the wagon and into the air. Zorro saw Felipe thrust his fist in the air triumphantly as the youth watched him fly through the air.

"I hope da Vinci knew what he was doing," Zorro said as he soared toward the pueblo.

Minutes seemed like hours as he drifted on the wind currents. This was total freedom, he mused happily. From his lofty perch, he could see the Pacific Ocean sparkling in the distance. The San Gabriel Mountains seemed closer than ever. A ribbon of green trees he could see wending its way through the brown dusty land had to be the Porciuncula River. 

Zorro smiled as he saw Felipe riding Toronado toward Los Angeles. The youth was to hide with the stallion on the outskirts of town. Hopefully everyone would be distracted by the goings-on in the plaza and would not see the boy with the horse. It was true no one had seen Toronado before, but he still didn't want anyone to make a connection between Zorro and Felipe. It would put both their lives into danger.

Eventually the rooftops of the pueblo came into view. Zorro's eyes narrowed as he spotted the gallows and the large crowd of people that had gathered in the plaza. It appeared to him that the hangings had not yet begun.

Zorro steered the glider, circling the church. The current he had been riding started dying down as he neared the pueblo and he was slowly descending As he came closer to the ground, he could see citizens pointing up at him and he had to grin, gazing down at their awestruck faces.

His amused expression disappeared abruptly though when he noticed the lancers aiming their muskets and commenced firing upon him. A few of their bullets tore holes into the silk fabric, causing the glider to go down a little faster. Zorro landed the glider safely, however, a short distance away from the main crowd. He barely had time to extricate himself from it when he saw soldiers advancing toward him.

"Kill the man!" commanded Ramone, who still stood by the gallows.

Zorro watched as Sergeant Mendoza pointed in his direction, an extremely frightened expression on his round face as he said something to his superior. Zorro unhooked his whip from his belt and began to uncoil it

"Get him!" shouted the alcalde, evidently not caring about the sergeant's opinion.

More lancers came running toward Zorro. He cracked his whip at them and they backed up out of its way. Zorro noticed while he was distracting the soldiers and Ramón, Victoria had darted over and was untying his father's hands. 

Good for her, he thought, wielding his whip once again. He could only wonder if Zafira would have shown the same initiative in the same situation. Thoughts of both women were driven from his head then as he noticed the Alcalde unsheathing his sword and rushing toward him.

"I am Zorro," he announced rather dramatically, causing Ramone to come to a halt. "Friend to all those who support the cause of freedom. And the enemy to those who support tyranny."

He looked straight at the alcalde, who glared back unyieldingly.

Ramón turned to his lancers. "Take him! He's ours!" he ordered his flummoxed men.

Zorro cracked the whip twice more and the lancers danced back and forth as they tried to avoid its sting.

The alcalde rolled his eyes. He shoved aside two of the soldiers who stood on either side of him. "Stay back," he sneered. "He's just a man. I'll prove it to you. I'll make him bleed."

Ramone charged at Zorro, aiming his sword at the man in black's heart. Zorro sidestepped the thrust and the alcalde ran past, almost falling flat on his face as he stumbled by. Zorro drew his saber from its scabbard and saluted the other man. 

He went on the offensive then, driving Ramone backward as the commandante unsuccessfully tried to fend him off. Zorro pushed the alcalde then kicked him in the rear end toward the fountain. Ramone stumbled but regained his footing and attacked again. Zorro drove him back to the fountain again, then knocked the commandante's sword from his hand. Zorro pointed his saber at the alcalde's throat.

"Arrest those men again without cause and I'll put your neck in the noose," threatened Zorro, pressing his point even closer.

"I will hunt you down," said Ramone through clenched teeth.

"Fine," retorted Zorro. "But the tavern belongs to Señorita Escalante, _comprende_?"

The alcalde nodded his agreement before speaking, his voice full of increasingly hysterical anger. "I will see you hang. I will torture you. I will shoot you."

Zorro smiled mockingly at Ramone's impotent rage. "You surprise me, Alcalde," he said. "You've led everyone to believe you're a man of great control, of stature. But you're really quite emotional, aren't you?"

Ramone spun around, searching for his dropped sword. Spying it lying by the fountain, he bent over to pick it up. With a mischievous grin, Zorro used three strokes of his saber to slash a ‘Z' on the tail of the other man's jacket, then he darted away. 

Zorro could hear the congregated crowd laughing loudly as he ran to the back of the livery stables where Felipe and Toronado waited.

" _Gracias_ ," he said to the young man as he took the reins Felipe proffered. "Go back to the hacienda," Zorro instructed. 

Seeing the mutinous look on the lad's face, he added, "Felipe, you must return home. You cannot be seen helping me." He smiled wryly. "I'll be coming back shortly myself. You won't miss anything."

The youngster reluctantly nodded and turned to start his journey back to the hacienda. Zorro mounted the black stallion and went in the opposite direction, intending to make sure that the commandante hadn't immediately went back on his word in his short absence.

He was about to ride out through the pueblo gate when his father hailed him.

"Señor Zorro!" Don Alejandro waved his hand as Victoria stood by his side. The rest of the townspeople had gathered behind them as well.

Zorro came to a halt and spun Toronado around to face the people in the plaza.

"Remove the mask so we can see the man to whom we owe so much," Don Alejandro requested with a grin.

"Nothing would please me more than to reveal my true identity," replied Zorro, knowing that his father would be proud of him and what he had done. He then looked over at Victoria's face and saw her love for his masked alter ego shining in her eyes. Recklessly, he added, "And to show my true feelings for you, Señorita."

"Oh, but the feeling is mutual," Victoria said as a beautiful smile graced her countenance. "You can be sure of that."

"Knowing my identity would only give the alcalde more reason to threaten you," explained Zorro. "As long as I wear this mask, your safety is guaranteed." He knew she wouldn't like his response. He hated the idea of leading her on, but it _was_ the perfect ruse. No one would suspect that this El Zorro was a married man as long as he romanced the lovely innkeeper.

"But how can I thank you?" inquired Victoria, the disappointment plain in her voice.

Zorro could think of several ways she could thank him. Unfortunately none of them could ever happen, not in this lifetime anyway, he scolded himself as the lascivious thoughts filled his mind. But again, he decided to keep up the charade. "Someday when our people are free," he replied, "I promise you I will give you ample opportunity to show me that appreciation."

He blew a kiss in Victoria's direction. Then, pivoting Toronado around, he rode toward the pueblo gate once more. The townspeople cheered as Zorro spun his stallion around and waved again as the horse reared up on its hind legs before heading out of the pueblo.

Z Z Z

Diego was sitting in the library, reading a book when his father came storming into the hacienda. He and Felipe had emerged from the fireplace only about five minutes beforehand. The lad had gone off to do his neglected chores while Diego had chosen a book and sat down on the settee.

"Where have you been?" Don Alejandro roared when he spotted his son in the library. "I was almost hung this morning! And I come home and find you with your nose in book, like you don't have a care in the world."

Diego was mortified. His father thought he had sat idly by and would have allowed the alcalde to execute him. An excuse, he thought frantically, he needed a very good excuse for not trying to stop the hanging.

"Uh. . . Ah. . . I rode over to San Gabriel yesterday afternoon," he finally stated. "I. . .uh. . .went to go see Padre Posada. I thought maybe he could help us"

"He died two years ago," said Don Alejandro, eyeing his son curiously. "I thought I wrote and told you that."

Diego winced inwardly at his faux-pas. His father was correct, he had written to him about the padre's passing. Another excuse, he needed another excuse.

"I forgot," he said after racking his brain for a moment. "I didn't remember until I was already there. The new priest insisted I stay for supper and then after that it was too late to ride home. I stayed the night there at the mission. By the time I got back to Los Angeles, everything was over, so I came back here."

Diego looked up surreptitiously at his father. Don Alejandro was nodding, much to his relief.

"It's just as well," said the old don. His lined face then broke out into a big grin. "You wouldn't believe it. Zorro came flying into town on some winged contraption, bested the alcalde, and freed me and the others. He even made sure Victoria got her tavern back." He shook his head. "This Zorro is quite a fellow. Too bad you missed seeing him in action. He's really quite something"

"Maybe next time," Diego replied wryly before returning to his book. .

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, another tongue-in-cheek title that I couldn't resist. Of course, this title's basis is the novel "The Da Vinci Code" by Dan Brown. Since Diego's glider was based on illustrations by Leonardo Da Vinci, it was a natural choice.


	11. Conversations & Observations

"Zafira," said Diego, standing in the entrance to the library several days later. "I need to speak with you."

His wife looked up at him, setting aside the book she was reading. "What about?" she inquired a bit peevishly.

"Perhaps we could go on that ride I promised," Diego suggested hopefully.

Zafira sighed. "Very well," she said, getting to her feet. "If you insist."

She brushed past him on her way to her bedroom to change her clothes. Diego caught her arm. "We don't have to ride," he said. "We could go for a walk instead, if you like."

Wrenching her arm out of his grasp, she looked up at him angrily. "Since when does my opinion matter?" she queried petulantly.

Diego glanced around the hacienda. He could see several of the servants busily going about their work. But he knew they were also eavesdropping on the conversation between him and Zafira. He didn't want to become fodder for gossip in the servants' quarters.

"Ride or walk?" he asked in a tone that brooked no argument.

"Ride," Zafira chose. Giving him a look of annoyance, she continued on to her room.

Forty-five minutes later, she walked into the foyer dressed in her royal blue riding habit. Zafira ignored Diego's proffered arm, passing right by him and going out the front door. Sighing, he followed after her.

They had traveled a mile or so from the hacienda before Diego brought Esperanza to a halt. Turning in the saddle, he waited until Zafira stopped her mare, Conchita.

"I want to know why you hit Felipe," he declared without preamble. It still made him furious she thought she could abuse the boy the way she had.

"He was lying to me," said Zafira with an unconcerned shrug. "He wouldn't tell me where you had gone."

"That was no reason to slap him," said Diego, trying hard to keep his temper under control. "He didn't actually know. I hadn't told him."

Zafira shrugged again. "He's lied to me before, about other things." She stared calculatingly at her husband. "You two are very close, aren't you?" she questioned.

"He's my responsibility," stated Diego. "I'm the one who found him and brought. . ."

"He's your bastard, isn't he?" asked Zafira nastily. "This story about you finding this poor orphan boy all alone on a battlefield. . . It's all just a cover-up." She stared at him accusingly. 

Diego could only gape at her, his power of speech totally deserting him. Where on earth had she come up with such a crazy idea? 

"Hah," said Zafira when he remained silent. "I knew it was true. It's why you want us to adopt him, isn't it? Well, if you think that I'm going to help you raise some trollop's brat, you are sorely mistaken."

"No," Diego finally replied. " _Dios mio_ , Zafira, I was seventeen when I found Felipe and he thinks he was about six years old. I would have been about eleven when he was born. A little young to be a father, don't you think?"

"Oh," she said in a chastised tone. She then appeared to be considering something for a few moments. "Then he must be your father's by-blow," she stated callously.

"Zafira," Diego warned, "you go to far. My mother was still alive when I was eleven. My father would never have. . . He would never have had an affair with another woman. Ever." He glared darkly into his wife's eyes. "Felipe is not my son nor my father's. He is an orphan I found in Guadalajara and brought here to Los Angeles when I couldn't find any of his relatives to take him in."

"But why then is he a servant one moment yet still treated as a member of the family the next?" she demanded, not bothering to keep the displeasure from her voice. "Why do you waste so much time educating a peasant who will just become a menial laborer when he is older? Why does his welfare concern you so much?"

"Why do you harbor such resentment toward him?" Diego countered. "What has he ever done to you?"

Zafira rolled her eyes dismissively. "He's not one of us."

Diego was confused. "Not one of us?" he inquired. "What does that mean?"

"You wouldn't understand," said his wife. She turned her head away. "I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"But I do," stated Diego. "Zafira, I want to know what. . ."

Zafira whipped her face back around. "I want to know why you escorted that Escalante woman back to the pueblo," she shouted at him. "Why you? Couldn't one of the servants done it instead?"

"She asked me to," replied a stunned Diego, realizing she must have found out from one of those servants. "Zafira, her father and my father were old friends. I was just being courteous."

"I find it hard to believe an important caballero like your father could have been friends with a common innkeeper and his daughter," sneered Zafira. "I've noticed how close those two are. Are you sure she's not your father's mistress?"

Again, Diego was speechless. How could she even think such a thing? There had been no woman in his father's life since his mother had died nearly twelve years earlier. And to insinuate that the elder de la Vega and Victoria. . . It was too reprehensible for words.

"How dare you imply such a thing about my father?" Diego stated indigently. "Victoria is like a daughter to him. She sees him as a father figure. There is nothing improper going. . ."

"He doesn't need another daughter," snapped Zafira. "He has me. I'm his daughter now."

Diego sighed heavily. She was acting like a jealous spoiled child. He knew she was having a hard time adjusting to her new life. But it seemed like she wasn't even trying to fit in. Diego shook his head. 

Hopefully now that the crisis in Los Angeles was over, he could take her into the pueblo, have her meet some of the other women in town. Maybe they could even hold a party at the hacienda so she could see that she was welcomed into the community. He decided to bring up the plan to his father as soon as possible.  
Zafira was glancing at him inquisitively. She moved her horse over closer to his. He smiled at her disingenuously.

"I'm sorry, Diego," she said, laying her hand on his arm. "I really didn't mean what I said about the boy and your father," Zafira continued. "It's just that since we've arrived here in California, you and I haven't spent much time together. I feel left out." 

She was close to tears, he noticed. But he couldn't help thinking she was using them to manipulate him into forgiving her, especially since she keep peering up at him searchingly through her wet lashes..

But he decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. "It has been a rather trying few days," he conceded. "Maybe now that this Zorro has given notice to this alcalde, things will get back to normal."

Zafira nodded. They both urged their mounts forward, riding side by side. "I still think this Zorro is going about things all wrong," she declared. "He should direct his attention to the territorial governor, not a petty local official."

Diego rolled his eyes. "Let's not talk of such things now," he suggested. "I don't want us to argue anymore."

She agreed and they spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the rancho. Diego showed her all the places he used to play when he was a child and some of the pastures with their herds of cattle and flocks of sheep. 

Later that night, when Diego was undressing for bed, the door that connected his room with his wife's opened slowly. He had been in the middle of taking off his shirt but paused as Zafira, wearing a diaphanous nightgown, stepped into the room.

"Diego?" she asked tentatively. She looked up at him and he could see the blush on her cheeks even though his room was lit only by a single candle.

"Yes?" he queried back. "Did you want something?" He decided he wasn't going to make this easy for her. Not after the nearly two months of frustration she had put him through. He knew he was being petty but he brushed aside his feelings of guilt.

Zafira took several steps toward him until she stood mere inches away from him. "I was wondering," she began, "if. . . If you would like to come to my room tonight?"

Diego saw the pink of her cheeks grow even deeper. She was looking up coyly at him, apparently waiting breathlessly for his answer. But he saw something deep down in her blue eyes, something that told him she was really hoping he would say no. 

He decided to be perverse. After he let his shirt slide down to the floor, he took her into his arms and crushed her against his bare chest. Then Diego lowered his lips down to hers.

His suspicions of her invitation being a sham were confirmed when Zafira struggled as he kissed her. "My bed is right here," he murmured into her ear as he tore his mouth away from hers. It was surprising for him to discover that, although he wasn't sure if he still loved her, he obviously still desired her, as his hardening manhood undeniably proved.

"Diego, _por favor_ ," whispered Zafira as he trailed kisses down her neck. She tried to pull away but he held her fast against him.

"All right, your room then," he said, deliberately misunderstanding her plea. He scooped her off her feet and carried her through the connecting door.

"Diego, stop," she commanded as he placed her none too gently on her bed. "Please."

He stilled the hand that was undoing the fastenings of his trousers. "I thought you wanted this," he said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice but not quite succeeding. "You asked me to. . ."

"I. . .I know. . . I do," stammered Zafira a bit fearfully as she sat up. "But. . . you seem so angry." She glanced up at him innocently. "You're still upset about what I said this afternoon, aren't you?"

So that's what this was all about, Diego surmised. She had been hoping he would still be upset and would decline her tempting offer of her body. Well, he refused to play her little game.

"It has been forgotten," he said stoically. "Zafira, if you intend to deny me, tell me now and I'll leave you alone."

Zafira looked down at the quilt on her bed. "No, Diego," she said with an air of resignation. "I won't deny you."

She moved over as he sat down on the mattress and took her gently into his arms.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "Dead Men Tell No Tales" written by Philip John Taylor]

About a month later, Diego was in the library where he had set up his telescope. Things in the pueblo had quieted down and there had been no need for the masked man Zorro to deal with the alcalde again. The man in black had, however, brought a trio of horse thieves to justice just two weeks earlier. He had only narrowly escaped being shot by the lancers after he had delivered the criminals to the cuartel.

No appreciation, he chuckled as he wrote down an observation on the paper beside him. He had saved Ramón the trouble of hunting the men down and bullets were the thanks he received. Zorro's heroics hadn't all been in vain as he had flirted with Victoria who had blossomed at the attention he had paid to her.

Diego still felt somewhat like a cad, toying with the beautiful young innkeeper's affections. But, he kept telling himself defensively, it was an important part of the charade. Even if his feelings were as real as hers.

He found his attraction to Victoria grew every time he saw her, despite the resumed marital relations between himself and his wife. Diego had caught himself more than once fantasizing he was making love to Victoria instead of the woman in his arms. Just the previous evening, he had even almost said her name in the middle of a very tender moment instead of Zafira's.

His face flushed guilty as he remembered his near blunder. Diego took a deep breath and cleared his mind as he stared at the white orb glowing through the lens of his telescope.

Felipe came into the room then, carrying a lit lamp. Diego pointed at the lamp, his eye never leaving the scope. "Turn out that light."

The youth quickly blew out the flame. Diego dipped his quill in a bottle of ink and wrote once again on the parchment before looking up at the lad.

"What is it, Felipe?" asked Diego. So far, there had been no more incidents between the boy and Zafira. In fact, she kept away from him as much as possible. Diego had still seen her though, casting disparaging glances at Felipe from time to time.

Felipe turned, indicating the clock on the wall opposite them.

"Well yes, I know the hour is late," commented Diego, looking through the scope again. "You see there is one obstacle which has vexed astronomers down through the ages. Man can only study the moon at night." The boy didn't need to know that he was also avoiding his wife and a repeat of the night before's nearly disastrous slip of the tongue.

He looked over at Felipe and clasped him on the shoulder. "Take a look," he offered with a smile.

Felipe leaned down and peered through the telescope. 

"Isn't she magnificent?" Diego asked rhetorically. "She's the empress of all she surveys." He patted Felipe's shoulder. "You know one day I believe we'll actually journey to the moon."

The young man jumped back away from the telescope and looked at Diego like he was loco.

"I don't mean you and I, Felipe," said Diego with a chuckle "When I say ‘we', I mean mankind."

Felipe smiled with relief. Diego then heard something that sounded like hoof beats in the distance. He aimed the scope lower before looking through it.

"Who could be in such a hurry at this time of night?" wondered Diego aloud. He could see a man on horseback, whipping the reins from side to side as his cape flowed in the wind.

Diego took his eye away from the lens. "That man is riding like a pack of jackals are after him."

He and Felipe looked at each other, then Diego returned to the telescope, peering through it again.

Later the next morning, Diego and Felipe were in the secret cave, where the older man was trying to teach the lad the finer points of swordsmanship when they were interrupted by Don Alejandro's shouts.

"Diego!" the elder de la Vega called out.

"I thought my father went to town?" Diego asked Felipe, who nodded then shrugged his shoulders. Diego tossed his sword to the boy and ran out of the cave. 

He emerged from the fireplace then sprinted over to the piano, where he sat down and started playing one of the new compositions he had learned while at university. Don Alejandro came into the room a few moments and stared at his son.

"That's strange," commented Don Alejandro a bit bewilderedly. "I looked in here just a.. . ." He then became serious. "Have you heard the news?"

Diego glanced up at his father as he continued to play. "No."

"Señorita Victoria has been arrested," stated Don Alejandro gravely.

"On what charge?" Diego inquired in alarm, stilling his hands. Surely she wasn't foolish enough to speak treasonously again in the alcalde's or one of his soldier's hearing.

"Murder," replied his father. Diego was shocked to his very toes. Murder? Victoria? He was positive she would never do such a thing, except maybe in self-defense. He tried to focus on what else the elder de la Vega was saying.

"Sergeant Mendoza found her in a dorm with a bloody dagger in her hand and a dead man at her feet.," Don Alejandro explained. " They arrested her on the spot."

Hoping to disguise his distress, Diego started playing the piano again as his father began to rant. "Now I ask you," said the old don, "how could anyone possibly believe that Victoria would ever . . . Ah, it's an outrage!" He began pacing back and forth beside Diego.

"How convenient that the good sergeant just happened to be passing by a such an early hour," Diego remarked out loud as he mulled over what his parent had told him.

"Yes," replied Don Alejandro automatically. He stopped his pacing when he realized what Diego said. "What was that?" he asked expectantly.

"Ah, nothing," Diego said, acting innocently. "Just an idle thought." He glanced up at his father

"Um, the alcalde is up to something," declared Don Alejandro. "Victoria needs our help."

Diego ceased playing again and got to his feet. "You're right," he said. "I'll take a basket of food to the jail for her."

"And that's all?" his father asked in an appalled tone.

Diego tried not to let the disappointment he saw in the elder de la Vega's eyes hurt, but it did anyway. "What else can we do?" he queried. "There's no evidence against the alcalde."

Don Alejandro rolled his eyes and walked away. Diego swallowed hard. Playing the weak-willed scholar was a lot harder than he thought it was going to be. The disappointment he just saw in his father's eyes made him feel ill. He was hurting so many people with this deception. His father, Victoria, Zafira. . . and - if he was going to be totally honest - himself.

Was Zorro worth it? He had asked himself that question more than once. Well, he thought, he was about to find out. The Alcalde was obviously up to no good again, with this blatantly false charge of murder against Victoria, which was no doubt a ploy to capture Zorro. 

Diego sighed wearily as he pushed his observations to the back of his mind and headed toward the kitchen to coax a basket of food from the housekeeper, Maria.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - The conversation at the beginning of this chapter between Diego and Zafira was one of the turning points of this story. And the observations Diego makes about himself, his wife, his father, and Victoria in this chapter, shape a major part of the story.


	12. All the World's a Stage

[parts of the following scene taken from "Dead Men Tell No Tales" written by Philip John Taylor]

It was nearly two hours later before Diego arrived in the pueblo with the basket of food for Victoria. Sergeant Mendoza had stopped him at the cuartel gate and searched through the wicker hamper very thoroughly. 

Diego leaned nonchalantly against the large wooden door. "Everything in order, Sergeant?" he asked sardonically. "No files, no pistols?"

"Ah, the custard looks mouth-watering, Señor," commented Mendoza, staring under the red gingham napkin. Diego laughed. Mendoza paid no attention to the other man's amusement. "I'd better examine it further. There might be a weapon at the bottom." .

He reached his hand into the basket and pulled out a large handful of the custard in question. "No, nothing there," the soldier said after taking a bite of the custard. He gave the basket back to Diego and led him inside the garrison, eating the custard as he walked.

When Diego and the sergeant entered the jail, he handed the basket back to Mendoza and rushed over to the cell where Victoria was being held.

"Señorita Escalante!" Diego called out. It was heartbreaking to see her behind those iron bars. She looked so young and scared.

"Don Diego!" said Victoria as she rose up off the cot she had been sitting upon.

"I brought you some food." Diego indicated the basket the portly soldier was holding as he unlocked the cell door.

"And it is very tasty too," remarked Mendoza with his mouth full of the custard.

Victoria snatched the basket away from him. The sergeant closed the door, locking it once again. Diego waited until Mendoza had departed before speaking. 

"Don't touch the custard," Diego warned as Victoria polished an apple from the basket on her skirt. "It was make especially for the sergeant."

She looked up at him oddly before taking a bite of the apple.

"Why don't you tell me what happened this morning?" he asked after she had finished eating the apple.

"You believe me, don't you," inquired Victoria worriedly. "You and your father believe I didn't murder this Señor Morales."

" _Si_ ," replied Diego fervently. "I know you would never harm anyone, unless you were defending yourself."

She glanced up at him again, her brown eyes full of gratitude. " _Gracias_ , Don Diego," she said. Then Victoria's face became angry. "Somebody needs to tell the alcalde that. He acts as though I killed his best friend."

"What did happen?" Diego reiterated. She had a point. Why would Ramone be so upset by a stranger's death?

"Well, it was very late last night," Victoria began her tale, "after midnight. I was getting ready to go to bed when this man knocked on the door, asking for a room."

Diego recalled the man he had seen riding late night when he had been observing the moon. Were that man and the murder victim one and the same? Had someone been chasing him? Someone who had caught up with him at the tavern, stabbed him while everyone slept, and left the corpse for Victoria to find in the morning?

He shook himself out of his thoughts as Victoria continued on with her story. "He demanded breakfast at dawn. So I had to get up earlier than normal to prepare it for him. But when I knocked on his door this morning, he didn't answer. So I went in and found him lying on the bed. He had a big bl-blood stain on the front of his sh-shirt and there was a bl-bloody knife on the floor."

"And you picked it up?" Diego inquired.

She nodded. "And that's when S-Sergeant Mendoza came bursting into the room and started screaming I had m-murdered the man." Victoria shook her head before looking up at Diego. "I didn't do it," she said again. "But no one believes me except you."

Diego saw the tears in her eyes threatening to spill down her lovely cheeks. He could tell she wasn't trying to use them to gain his sympathy, like Zafira had done on so many occasions. These were real tears of distress.

"What did the man look like?" he queried, distracting himself from the desire to take her into his arms and comfort her. He began to walk back and forth in front of her cell. "Can you describe him?"

"He was younger than your father, but he had gray in his hair. He was very tall," stated Victoria thoughtfully. "And very rude. Oh, and he also had a mustache."

Not much to go on, thought Diego as he continued to pace. Stroking his chin, he said, "Whoever killed him certainly had a reason. Find out exactly who this Morales was and you're closer to finding the real killer."

He stopped in front of the cell and gazed down at Victoria. "At least that's what my father believes," he added, not wanting her to think he was alone in helping her.

"But how can it be done?" asked Victoria skeptically.

"The dead man's belongings?" Diego inquired hopefully

"The alcalde impounded them at once," declared Victoria. "They are locked away in his office."

Diego looked over at the door that led to Ramón's office. "Indeed," he said pensively. Well, Zorro should be able to get a closer look at them tonight, he mused.

Victoria's voice disrupted the plotting out of his plans for later that evening. "Don Diego?"

He turned his head to look at her. The expression on her face was so pitiful, his heart filled with even more love and admiration for her.

"Please help me," said Victoria pleadingly.

"We'll do our best, Señorita," he said. "I send Felipe by tomorrow with more food."

"More food?" Victoria questioned archly. "I need more than. . ." She bit off whatever she had been about to say. " _Gracias_ , Don Diego," she said with icy politeness. "You are too kind."

His stomach churned as he saw the look of disenchantment in her eyes. The very same look he had seen in his father's earlier that morning. " _Adios_ , Señorita," he said, giving her a little bow and a civil smile.

" _Adios_ ," she said. Diego watched as she went back and sat back down on her cot, setting the basket beside her. His heart melted again as Victoria looked forlornly at the basket, no doubt losing whatever appetite she may have had. 

Diego felt terrible as he turned and departed the jail. Not even the sight of Sergeant Mendoza urgently running to the latrine cheered him up.

He had to pretend to be ineffective and noncommittal, he scolded himself. It was part of the masquerade that was Zorro. He also had to make sure he behaved as a happily married man around Victoria at all times. That would make his flirtation with her as Zorro an all the more useful part of the charade. Sighing wearily, he mounted his horse and urged her out of the pueblo.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "Dead Men Tell No Tales" written by Philip John Taylor]

Much later that evening, Zorro climbed up the side of the alcalde's office, using his whip as a rope. He reached the roof and starts to walk across it. Hearing someone cough, Zorro dove down onto his stomach. Peering down, he saw a soldier lighting a cigar. Zorro got back up onto his feet and walked stealthily across the tile roof. He had to use his whip to catch one of the red tiles he accidentally dislodged when he stepped on it. 

"I wish the alcalde would have this roof repaired," Zorro commented as he put the tile back into its place. He continued his quiet journey across the roof. 

In a matter of minutes, Zorro was opening the door of the commandante's office. Glancing around the room as he walked through it, he noticed a trunk near Ramone's desk. Using his sword, he picked the trunk's lock and popped open its lid. Rummaging around inside it, he pulled out the dead man's saddle bags. He read the inscription on their crest and smiled. He tore a blood stained piece off the shirt Morales had been wearing when he was stabbed and secreted it under his cape.

Zorro then turned to leave. He opened the office door and was confronted by two lancers pointing their muskets at him. Zorro immediately slammed the door shut and latched it before they could fire. Their bullets pierced the wood of the door. Zorro darted over to the window where he saw three more soldiers charging the building. 

"Good evening, Zorro," greeted Ramone as he entered the room as Zorro turned in the direction of the door again. "Those shots were a warning. The pleasure of killing you is mine."

Zorro grinned confidently. "My sword says differently, Señor Alcalde." He unlocked the door behind his back as Ramone revealed two pistols, one in each hand, he had hid behind his back. He aimed both pistols at the man in black

"Indeed, a sword is no match for a pistol," commented Zorro insolently, "as your valor is no match for your mouth."

"Choose your next witticism with care," the commandante said through gritted teeth, "for it will be your last."

Zorro nodded his head, grinning roguishly before opening the door. He dodged out of the way as Ramone fired both pistols and narrowly missed shooting the two soldiers who were rushing into the office. Zorro shut the door before turning and facing the alcalde, who had drawn out his sword.. The fight was a short one with Zorro knocking the commandante's blade from his hand after only a brief exchange. The sword clattered to the floor as Zorro approached Ramone's desk.

"Your office is so drab, Alcalde," drawled Zorro mischievously. "Allow me to redecorate it." He then carved a ‘Z' into the top of the desk with the tip of his saber.

"Much better," declared Zorro, leaning over to admire his handiwork. "But such a cheap wood. Tsk."

Chaos ensued as the masked man made his escape. He was fired at several times but was not hit, although a couple of the bullets came uncomfortably close. Zorro was grinning, however, as he jumped down from the cuartel roof onto the waiting Toronado's back.

It was nearly two hours later when Diego crept quietly inside his bedroom after he had changed out of his black clothing, made sure Toronado had been properly cared for, and had persuaded the excited Felipe to go to bed. He was shocked to see his wife sitting on his bed, glaring at him angrily.

"Where have you been?" she demanded stridently.

"Keep your voice down," Diego said in a hoarse whisper. "Do you want to wake the whole household?"

"Why not?" she replied in a slightly lower tone. "They'll find out you're cheating on me soon enough."

Diego stared dumbly at Zafira. Did she know about Victoria? How could she have found out? He had thought he had hidden his feelings for the beautiful innkeeper quite well. Then he looked at his wife's face and realized that she was just guessing.

"I. . .I have never. . ." he began as he scrambled around his brain to find a good excuse why he had been out so late. "Zafira, I was outside watching a meteor shower. I must have fallen asleep." Diego walked over to the bed and knelt down before her. "I would never do that to you," he vowed. "You are my wife. . . Please. . ."

"You were just outside stargazing?" she asked a bit uncertainly. He nodded. "You weren't with another woman?"

"No," he answered honestly, taking her hands in his. Diego then was overwhelmed by her feminine scent, which aroused his blood, which was already stirred up by the night's earlier exploits. He brought his mouth up to meet hers and then slid his arms around her, moving into the ‘V' her legs made.

Diego reluctantly broke off the kiss as he felt her resistance. "Zafira, please," he pleaded huskily.

"It's late," she stated. "I'm too. . ."

"Why were you in my room anyway?" he inquired, interrupting her excuses. Diego grinned impishly at his wife's reddening face.

"I. . .uh. . .I wanted to ta. . ." she started to stammer out a explanation.

"You wanted to do this," he said knowingly. "You wanted to make love."

She closed her eyes for a moment. " _Si_ , all right, I did," she acquiesced, looking at him with her blue eyes. But, Diego. . ."

He didn't let her finish as he kissed her again. Zafira offered no opposition as he picked her up and placed her head upon his pillows, then laid down beside her.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "Dead Men Tell No Tales" written by Philip John Taylor]

The next day, Felipe ran into the cave where Diego was cutting the scrap of fabric Zorro had torn from the dead man Morales's shirt. Diego looked up as Felipe came to a halt in front of him then took several deep breaths.

The lad must have ran all the way from the pueblo, he surmised. He had sent Felipe into town about an hour earlier with the promised basket of food for Victoria. The expression on the boy's face told him that the youth must have found out some bad news. The hand gestures that Felipe made once he regained his composure confirmed Diego's suspicions. 

"Victoria will hang?" Diego interpreted the lad's signals. Felipe nodded then waved both his arms to his right.

"At dawn?" inquired Diego, his stomach churning sickeningly as Felipe nodded again. How could the alcalde hang an innocent woman without even allowing her a trial? It had to be a trap devised to capture Zorro, he thought once again. He just had to come up with a plan to outsmart Ramón's.

"We've got work to do," stated Diego urgently, setting down his scissors. He then picked up a piece of paper and showed it to the boy. "See this crest, Felipe? I saw it on the dead man's saddlebags."

The lad examined the drawing that Diego had rendered from memory. Then Diego selected a test tube containing a clear liquid.

"It may prove to be the alcalde's undoing," he commented. Felipe walked over to the laboratory table as Diego poured the liquid into a petri dish. "Let's see if the intrigue goes any deeper."

Diego put the scrap of shirt into the dish. "This is a piece of the dead man's shirt," he explained to the curious youth. "Well, let's just see what kind of blood ran through his veins."

Felipe's eyes grew big as the liquid turned green. He stared up at Diego, who smiled at him.

"Now the only question is. . ." began Diego, as he poked the fabric into the liquid, causing it to turn even greener, "where is this dead man? I think Señor Zorro just might find the answer to that question tonight."

A huge grin came over Felipe's face as he nodded eagerly. Diego couldn't help but smile himself at the boy's enthusiasm.

Z Z Z

It was late the next morning before Diego and Felipe emerged from the fireplace and into the hacienda library. Zorro had saved Victoria from hanging by revealing the man she had supposedly murdered was instead alive and well and an old friend of the alcalde's. Ricardo Cortez was also an actor with the Calderón Theatre Company of Mexico City. Actually Ramone's little scheme had been a good, albeit devious, one.

Diego was a bit ashamed he had used his telescope to burn Sergeant Mendoza's bottom, but it had been quite amusing as well. He was just glad he had been able to rescue Victoria. The thought of her dying on the gallows made him shudder.

He smiled at Felipe who then left to go attend to his chores. Diego himself was at a loss as to what to do. He was too wound up to just sit and read. And there was no way that Zafira was going to let him burn off some of his excess energy by making love with her.

Groaning, he remembered the lie he had told her the previous evening before he had ridden out as Zorro. He knew that he would probably be away from the hacienda all night and into the next morning. And he did not want a repeat of the previous night's accusations of adultery from his wife.

No, he had told her he was going to visit one of his old bachelor friends in San Pedro and would be gone until the next day. When she had asked if she could go too, Diego had to tell her no without arousing her suspicions. He told her that he and his amigo, Leonardo, would probably sit around and play cards all night while they talked about old times.

Zafira had accepted this explanation, much to Diego's relief. But he was also getting a bit worried about how easy it was getting to lie to his wife and to his father. And it bothered him greatly that Felipe seemed to enjoy immensely his part in the deception that surrounded Zorro. 

"Diego!" His father's voice called out from the kitchen, breaking into his reflections. 

"Yes, Father?" he answered as he walked toward the other end of the hacienda, hoping the elder de la Vega had something interesting for him to do.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - A quote from William Shakespeare's "As You Like it" Act Two Scene Seven, spoken by the character Jacques: ‘All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players.'
> 
> A fitting title I thought for the chapter that was mostly based on the episode "Dead Men Tell No Tales"(episode 1.1) which had an actor friend of Ramone's posing as a corpse. 
> 
> At first I named this chapter "Real-Life Drama", as kind of a reference to all those reality shows polluting television. But I like the other title much better.


	13. Chapter 13

** Six Months Later **

" _You've what?_ " Diego roared at his father in surprise.

"I've been writing to Francisca for nearly five years now," replied Don Alejandro, unaware of the censure in his son's tone. "We starting corresponding with each other about the time you left for university."

"But to invite her here?" questioned Diego. "To consider marrying her. . ."

"I think it's lovely," Zafira interrupted her husband's inquisition. She walked over and took one of the elder de la Vega's hands. "I'm so happy for you, Father," she said as she squeezed his hand.

" _Gracias, hija_ ," said the old don. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. Then he eyed his son balefully. "I don't understand your attitude, Diego."

Diego hung his head. He was totally overwhelmed by his father's announcement he was considering marriage to a woman he had been corresponding with for several years. A woman he had never met. A woman, no matter how nice or kind she might be, would never take the place of his mother.

"I know you're thinking about your mother," said Don Alejandro, seemingly reading his mind. "You know that no one could ever take her place in my heart." He put his arm around Zafira. "But a man gets lonely, son. He had needs. . ."

" _Si, si_ , I understand," Diego cut in, not wanting to hear about his father's ‘needs'. He knew all about needs. Especially since Zafira hadn't come to his room for over a month.

"Nothing has been set in stone," the elder de la Vega was saying. "But I cannot see any obstacle in the way of our marrying."

"Diego, you should be happy for your father," Zafira scolded. She glanced up coyly at her father-in-law. "No doubt he sees our wedded bliss and wants the same for himself."

Diego had to bite his tongue to stop the nasty retort he had been about to utter. Wedded bliss, indeed. They slept in separate bedrooms. They only made love when she wanted to. They shared no interests together except reading. And even there, their tastes were disparate. Zafira liked to read light hearted romantic novels written in Spanish, whereas he preferred more classical literature in a variety of languages. She treated Felipe like he wasn't there and resented the time Diego spent with the boy. Wedded bliss, indeed, he scoffed again.

"Well, Señora de la Peña arrives next week," said his father. "You'll just have to get used to the idea by then, Diego."

"Yes, Father," said Diego downheartedly. He barely glanced up as Don Alejandro and Zafira left the room. Instead, he stared at the lump of clay that sat on the table before him. He had planned to do a bust of himself, just for the challenge of it. But now, perhaps he should make something that would be suitable as a wedding present. 

Diego punched his fist into the soft clay. No, he thought angrily. He'd do the sculpture of himself. Who he truly was, not this persona he now exhibited to the world. He would worry about a gift only if became necessary to do so.

[most of the following scene taken from "Deceptive Heart" written by Bruce Lansbury]

The appointed day that the señora's coach from San Pedro was due to arrive finally came. Diego spent the morning working on the bust of himself, which was turning out quite nicely, if he did say so himself. He had to hide a smile as his father and Zafira walked into the parlor where he was working.

"Diego, tell me how I look," demanded Don Alejandro. He was wearing a light gray jacket with tails and matching trousers. His white linen shirt had been ironed within an inch of its life. The elder de la Vega came over and peered into the mirror Diego was using in order to sculpt himself.

"Just as you did ten minutes ago," Diego commented a bit impatiently.

Don Alejandro fiddled with his tie as he stared in the mirror. "Huh?" he said absently. "Tell me again."

"And five minutes before that," replied Diego, not bothering to keep the annoyance from his voice. 

"You look splendid, Father," Zafira assured her father-in-law as she shot her husband a quelling glance. She went over and brushed an invisible piece of dust from the old don's shoulder.

"Good, good," said Don Alejandro, straightening his jacket. "First impressions are everything."

Diego rolled his eyes before returning to work on his bust. "I still can't believe you'd consider marriage to a woman you've never even met," he remarked as he shaped the clay around the sculpture's chin. At least he had known Zafira, he thought pompously, even if it had only been for two months. All at once, the words his amigo, Miguel, had quoted to him, ‘marry in haste, repent at leisure ,' took on a whole new significance. Diego wished now he had heeded them.

"Oh, but I do feel as though I've already met her," his father was saying as he pulled out a miniature painting of the widow from his jacket pocket. "For five years now, Francisca, and I have corresponded," he declared dramatically, "sharing our deepest thoughts and feelings. First our pens, then our hearts found each other."

The old don's prose was interrupted by Felipe, who came bounding through the front door. The lad pointed eagerly toward the open door.

"Ah, Felipe's sighted the coach," Diego interpreted. He reached for a cloth so he could wipe the clay from his hands.

Don Alejandro took out his pocket watch and looked at the time. "The coach?" he asked fretfully. "But it's an hour early."

"Everything is ready," stated Zafira. "Don't worry, Father. Everything is perfect."

"Good, good," said the elder de la Vega vaguely, adjusting his tie once more. "Shall we go meet her?" He offered Zafira his arm and lead her away. A churlish Diego followed them.

Felipe ran ahead of the others to the hacienda gate. The coach was lumbering down the road and came to a shuddering stop in front of the house. Diego donned his jacket with his father's assistance. 

Felipe went to open the coach door. A young beautiful woman emerged from its dark interior. When no one else stepped out, Don Alejandro took out the miniature of the elderly woman once again.

"Hmm. Doesn't quite look like her," he murmured as he studied the cameo. Diego was thinking the very same thing. Then his father turned his attention to the young woman who stood smiling before him. 

"You are Señora de la Peña?" he asked uncertainly.

"I am Francisca," the woman confirmed. "And you are Don Alejandro?"

"The same," replied Don Alejandro who was now wearing an inane grin.

The young señora rushed over and enveloped the elder de la Vega in a hug. Diego looked over at Zafira who seemed undisturbed by this turn of events. 

Why had the woman misrepresented herself, he wondered as he watched as his father embraced the señora. She was obviously not the person depicted in the miniature she had sent Don Alejandro. Why the ruse? 

"Diego, Zafira," said his father, beckoning them closer. "Señora, this is my son, Diego, and his wife, Zafira.

"Pleased to meet you both, " said the young widow. She gave a little curtsy as the couple murmured their greetings.

"You must be exhausted after your long journey," stated Don Alejandro solicitously. He offered Señora de la Peña his arm.

Diego and Zafira followed the other couple from the gate to the hacienda door. Once inside, Don Alejandro had Zafira show the señora to the guestroom she would be using. Diego used the opportunity to pounce on his father.

"Ask her about the cameo," he demanded. "It's obviously not her."

"I know, I know," conceded the old don. "She must have a good reason."

" _Si_ ," Diego commented suspiciously, "I'm sure she does."

"Diego, what are you implying?" asked the elder de la Vega in a hurt voice.

"Nothing, Father," his son replied. "But I really think you should ask her about the painting as soon as possible."

"Fine," said Don Alejandro a bit exasperated by Diego's nagging. "After she's rested."

Diego nodded. He only hoped that his father would follow through on his promise.

Three hours had passed by and the señora had not reemerged from her room. Diego was irritated by his father's cavalier attitude toward the whole matter.

"Father," he called out as he spied the elder de la Vega in the foyer. 

Don Alejandro stopped and turned to look at his son. "Yes, Diego?"

"Don't forget to ask her," Diego reminded him. "Although I think you should have asked her immediately."

"You wanted me to follow a lady into her chambers?" queried the old don in a scandalized tone.

Zafira strolled into the room then. "Diego, leave him alone," she ordered, obviously vexed with him. "It's his business, not yours."

Diego had been about to reply when their attention was drawn to the sound of the señora's bedroom door opening and the lady in question coming into view.

Diego leaned over and whispered to his father. "Ask her now."

"Ah," said Don Alejandro as he walked toward the young widow and held out his arms. "I trust your rooms are to your liking, Señora."

Francisca beamed at him happily. "Quite beyond my expectations, Don Alejandro," she replied.

The old don just stood there, grinning foolishly. Diego noticed his father's rapt gaze and rolled his eyes impatiently. He then nudged his elbow into the elder de la Vega's upper arm, hoping to stir him from his stupor. 

Don Alejandro scowled at Diego before taking the señora's arm and leading her away from his son. He proceeded to point out the view from various windows. Diego decided to take the bull by the horns, so to speak. 

"Excuse me, Señora," he said politely but firmly as he stepped between his father and the young woman. A woman he now noticed was about the same age as his own wife. 

"Diego, stop it," hissed Zafira under her breath. She was glaring at him crossly.

Diego ignored her. He looked intently at the widow clinging to his father's arm. "My father would love to give you a lesson on the local geography," he began, "but he refuses to ask a simple question that plagues us all."

Francisca had the decorum to look slightly uncomfortable. "It's about the cameo, isn't it?" she asked with her eyes downcast.

"Yes," Diego answered.

"Yes, yes, yes, of course,"interjected Don Alejandro as he took the miniature painting from his jacket pocket. "The cameo. You would good enough to send me this, Señora." He handed it to the young widow.

Francisca looked at the miniature before turning and walking a few steps away. "I did."

"You are not that lady," Diego pointed out unnecessarily.

"I. . . I cannot say I am disappointed," his father said, the vapid smile gracing his face once again. 

"I confess to the deception, gentlemen," announced Francisca as she spun around to face them once again. "Don Alejandro, try to understand. Five years ago, I was a young widow, lost in grief, and despite the attentions of others who sought my hand, lonely." She took a deep breath before continuing. "I joined our correspondence society and found there a man of honor, of integrity, romantic imagination."

She looked up to gaze at the old don affectionately. "You, Señor. The warmth of our letters grew. We reached out and met each other at a level of intellect, reason, even affection I have never experienced."

"So true, dear lady," agreed Don Alejandro ardently.

The señora walked up to the elder de la Vega. "But our letters could not tell me what you expected of me," she said humbly, casting her eyes downward again. "I am many years younger than you, Señor."

"And so very beautiful," pronounced Don Alejandro. He took her hands and led her over to a chair in the parlor. She sat down as the old don took a seat opposite her. Diego held out a chair for his wife before sitting down across from her. He looked on skeptically as his father reached over and grasped Francisca's hand, ignoring a censorious glare from Zafira.

"I wanted you to desire me for what we shared in our letters," stated Señora de la Peña. 

Don Alejandro nodded. "You were testing my sincerity," he said understandingly. Diego rolled his eyes again.

"The cameo is of my distant aunt, Consuela," explained the young widow. "She is happily married and a grandmother. Can you forgive me?"

Both Zafira and the elder de la Vega smiled at her indulgently. "Ah, of course, of course.," said the old don as he rose from his chair. He walked over to where a decanter of wine sat on a table and began pouring it out in the crystal wine glasses. "My deepest respects to your aunt, Consuela," he said, again with an insipid smile. "And her grandchildren."

Diego made a rude noise. Zafira reached across and tapped him on the knee before glowering at him. "Behave yourself," she whispered.

Don Alejandro turn around and gazed at Francisca. "After all, if a man is promised silver, would he refuse gold?" he asked rhetorically. Chuckling, he handed the young woman a glass of the wine as Diego's expression grew pained. The old man was really making a fool of himself, he thought.

"A toast, Diego, Zafira," said his father, handing them each a glass. "To a noble lady." The four of them brought their glasses together. "Señora," the elder de la Vega continued, "to the ties that bind sympathetic souls"

Don Alejandro and Francisca smiled at each other as they drank while Zafira looked on approvingly. Diego glanced suspiciously at the young señora as he took a sip of his wine.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - This title is a reference to the old marketing scheme, ‘bait and switch', which a retailer would advertise a product for an exceptionally low price in hopes of bringing people to their store. Once the people were there, anxious to buy the inexpensive product, the retailer would tell them the product was of poor quality and/or had many flaws. Then the retailer would attempt to sell them a more expensive version of the same type of product.
> 
> The situation where Don Alejandro received the real Senora de la Pena's miniature but then had a much younger and beautiful pen pal show up on his door step reminded me of the old marketing scheme.


	14. Masked Motives

Much to Diego's chagrin, Zafira and Francisca became confidantes almost immediately. For two days it seemed like the two women had spent all their waking moments together, but he knew that wasn't true. The young widow and his father also seemed inseparable. Diego had tried several times to spend a few moments alone with Señora de la Peña but she proved elusive.

On the afternoon of the third day, Diego was about to go out to the courtyard when he heard the voices of his wife and his father's intended conversing outside. He was about to turn and go the other way when he heard Zafira say his name.

"Oh, Diego is like that, too. The de la Vega men are so passionate," said Zafira with a girlish twitter. "They think with their hearts instead of their heads."

Diego crept quietly through the doorway and shamelessly eavesdropped on the women, pressing himself up against the wall. He peered around the corner and saw them sitting at a small table, drinking wine as they chatted.

" _Si_ ," agreed Francesca, taking a sip from her glass of wine. "Alejandro insists that we get married as soon as possible."

"Diego was the same way," Zafira said demurely. "We had only known each other a few months before he insisted on getting married."

"You appear to be happily wed," Francesca commented.

"Yes, we do, don't we?" stated Zafira. Diego noted the sarcasm in her voice. 

And why was she lying, telling Francesca he had been the one to pressure her into marriage? Diego closed his eyes and vividly remembered the night he had proposed to Zafira.

They had gone to the opera with Miguel and his latest lady friend. Afterward, they had a light supper at a busy café near the opera house. The men then escorted the women home. Diego had walked Zafira to the townhouse she shared with her brother that they had inherited from their parents.

Ricardo had not been home that evening. Zafira had invited Diego in for a glass of wine and he had eagerly accepted. She had brought the wine bottle with her, setting it down on a table near the settee where Diego waited for her. 

Maybe it had been the wine; of which he had consumed three glasses; or the music from the romantic opera they had seen still that reverberated in his head, or the fact that they were finally alone together, but something made Diego throw caution to the wind that night. 

He remembered how he had held Zafira in his arms, kissing her mouth. He had teased opened her lips with his tongue, something he had never done with her before. Tasting the wine on her tongue, he had groaned and probed his deeper, eliciting a moaning response from her.

Emboldened, he ran his hands, which he usually left placidly holding her slim waist, up her body until he came in contact with her small firm breasts. Extending one of his thumbs, he had brushed it against one of her nipples and it hardened under his touch. He had leaned her back against the couch cushions, pressing his body against hers. His manhood had swelled as she squirmed beneath him.

"Diego, _por favor_ ," she had murmured, tearing her mouth away from his. "Diego, no." She tried to push him off of her but he was too solid for her to even budge.

As soon as it penetrated his lust-soddened senses that she was resisting him, he released her and sat up. Panting heavily, he glanced at her sheepishly. "Zafira, I'm sorry," he apologized.

"How dare you take such liberties," she had said primly. "We're not even engaged." She looked up demurely through her eyelashes at him. "Such things are not proper between an unmarried couple."

"I know," he said guiltily. She was a respectable young lady, not an outlet for his lust. "I don't know what came over me. I'm sorry."

"I understand," she had replied. "I know you wouldn't hurt me. I. . . I love you, Diego." She bowed her head, seemingly embarrassed by her admission

Diego had been stunned by her declaration of love. They had known each other for such a short time. He put his hand on her chin and lifted it to look into her beautiful blue eyes. She was such a lovely woman. His gaze wandered down to her swollen lips and his loins stirred again with desire.

He loved her too, he had decided. What else could this feeling be, he asked himself. He had never felt this way about a woman before in his life and he knew then he never wanted to lose her. She was so sweet, so kind; in short, everything he could ever want in a wife. She was a bit prudish, but he marked that down to her being a virgin. And besides, that was part of her charm. Taking a deep breath, he made up his mind.

"I love you, too," he said. "Zafira, will you marry me? After I grad. . .

"Get married?" Zafira had interrupted in a shocked voice. She had gazed at him for a few moments then cast her eyes downward again. "Diego, I don't know what to say. This is all so sudden." She reached over and touched his hand. "I need some time to think."

Diego had lifted her hand to his lips. "Take all the time you need, _mi preciosa_ ," he suggested gallantly. He kissed her hand again before getting to his feet. "It's late, I'd better go now."

" _Si_ , of course," she had said, standing as well. She kissed on the cheek. " _Gracias_ ," she had murmured in his ear. "I do love you, Diego."

Zafira had stood in the open doorway, watching with an unfathomable smile as he walked away from the townhouse. He had kept throwing backward glances at her until he turned a corner and could no longer see. He had whistled a happy tune the rest of the way to the lodgings he shared with Miguel.

Listening to Zafira and Francisca giggling like schoolgirls, suspicions began to boil to the surface. Had Zafira led him on that night, trying to wrangle a proposal from him? It had been so out of character for her; the invitation inside her home, the overindulgence of wine, the allowance of more than just a peck on the lips. 

But it didn't make sense. Why would she suddenly want to marry him and why had she wanted to do it so quickly? She had accepted his proposal two days later and had insisted they marry that day instead of waiting until after he had graduated. He had intended to bring her to California first, to introduce her to his father, to get to know her a little better before they married.

Shrugging mentally, Diego decided to make his presence known to the two women. All the questions he had about them and their motives were not going to be answered by listening in on their current conversation, which had turned into a discussion about wedding gowns.

" _Buenas tardes_ , ladies," he greeted them amiably as he walked around the corner.

"Don Diego," said Señora de la Peña with a smile. "Would you join us?

"Who could refuse two such beautiful women?" he replied charmingly as he sat down in an empty chair.

Zafira jumped to her feet. "I have to go check on dinner," she said, making her excuses. "Francisca, I'll show you that dress I was talking about later."

Diego and the young widow watched as she departed. "Wine?" asked the señora as she reached for the bottle.

"No, thank you," he declined, wanting to keep his wits about him. He picked up a pitcher of water and poured himself a glass.

[parts of the following scene taken from "Deceptive Heart" written by Bruce Lansbury]

Francisca toyed with a lock of her hair as she watched him take a sip. "Your concern is all over your face, Don Diego," she stated. "But only natural. Don Alejandro and I have come together under unusual circumstances."

"To say the least," commented Diego wryly.

"As a good son," said Francisca, "you fear for his happiness."

"Letters are one thing, Señora," Diego said as he reached out for his glass. "Marriage quite another."

"He is everything I could desire in a man," declared the young widow fervently. "And a husband."

"Thank you for your candor and your understanding, Señora," said Diego graciously. But inside, his misgivings grew. Of course his father was everything a woman; no matter what her age; was looking for. He was rich. The fact he was still a handsome, vigorous man only sweetened the pot. 

A sickening feeling crept over Diego then. Had his father really been without female companionship all these years since his mother had died? He knew better than anyone that one didn't have to be in love with a woman in order to be intimate with her.

His unsettling thoughts were interrupted by Felipe who tore into the courtyard, signaling frantically at Diego. The boy kept pointing towards the pueblo, confirming Diego's suspicions something was wrong in town.

"Please excuse me," he said to Francisca, getting to his feet. "Felipe tells me our prized bull is loose in the cow pasture." Again, he was amazed by how glibly the lie slid off his tongue.

"Gomez and his vaqueros are up to their old tricks at the tavern," Diego interpreted Felipe's gestures as they stepped down into the secret cave. "Well let's see if Zorro can teach Señor Gomez a lesson in courtesy."

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "Deceptive Heart" written by Bruce Lansbury]

The vaqueros' wild antics were nearly out of control by the time Zorro arrived at the tavern. A man was playing the guitar as a girl danced on a raised platform while the vaqueros drank and fought. The man in black watched from the balcony with narrowed eyes as one of Gomez' men fell off the small stage in a drunken stupor, landing heavily onto Sergeant Mendoza's table. The stout soldier quickly moved his plate out of the way then calmly continued eating his roasted chicken. 

Zorro's senses were alerted when Victoria emerged from the kitchen. He tensed when she walked over and pulled Gomez from his seat. He moved swiftly to the staircase, ready to leap to his lady's defense.

"Gomez, get your pigs out of my tavern," demanded Victoria, "and as much as it pains me, your drinks will be free."

The leader of the vaqueros just chuckled as he slid his arms around Victoria's waist. He leaned his face in to kiss her lips. 

Zorro had seen enough. "One moment!" he called out as he sat with an air of nonchalance on the staircase railing. "Forgotten your manners, Señor?" he asked as Gomez looked up and glared at him.

Victoria shoved Gomez away, smiling up at her masked hero.

"On your knees before a lady," instructed Zorro. He tossed a pitcher, hitting Gomez on the forehead. The other man crumpled to the floor. One of his vaqueros rushed Zorro, who sent him flying with one punch. The vaquero landed on his back on a table.

Zorro glanced over to the stage where the guitar player and the dancing girl stood. "Please, continue," he said with a insolent smile.

The music and the dancing both started up again as another one of the vaqueros rushed Zorro. The man in black knock him unconscious with one well-placed kick to the chin. A fourth vaquero tried to hit Zorro with a stool but he used his sword to deflect the blow. One of the stool's legs was sliced off by the sword and landed in Mendoza's dinner, splashing sauce onto his round face. The stout soldier looked up at Zorro with an irate expression. 

Zorro had no time to be concern with the sergeant's anger as a vaquero with a sword charged at him. The masked man easily dispatched his opponent and pushed him into a corner where the man banged both sides of his head on the merging walls.

"Zorro!" Victoria called out in a panicked voice. "Look out for Gomez!"

He glanced quickly over his shoulder and glimpsed Gomez sneaking up behind him. In one motion, Zorro picked up and threw a plate at the head vaquero, clipping him in the forehead.. The plate deflected off Gomez's hard head and flew over to Mendoza's table, knocking the chicken out of the lancer's hand. 

Victoria backed into the kitchen to avoid the other vaqueros' stampede to flee the tavern. Zorro slashed a ‘Z' into Gomez's jacket, punched him in the face, then kicked him in the bottom toward the tavern door. 

The sergeant glared up at the man in black with a perturbed countenance. "You might at least let me finish my supper, Zorro," he said in a voice that matched his face. "Now it is my duty to arrest you."

Zorro smiled. So far the soldier had not even risen to his feet. He didn't seem all that happy about taking the masked man into custody. Maybe if he was offered a way out. . .

"But hasn't the Alcalde always said a well-fed soldier is a good soldier?" commented Zorro. 

"Very true," Mendoza agreed, even though Zorro doubted if Ramone had ever made such a statement, especially in the sergeant's hearing.

"Then your duty, Sergeant," Zorro said, "is to your supper." The man in black sheathed his sword as the stout soldier nodded then resumed eating his meal with gusto. 

Zorro pulled aside the curtains that separated the kitchen from the rest of the tavern. Victoria had to take a step back to allow him entrance.

"Anger brings a very pretty blush to your cheeks," he commented as he brought his gloved hand up to touch her pink-tinged face. Dios, she was beautiful when she was furious.

"Oh, anger never makes me blush," replied Victoria with a coy smile.

"The Alcalde's men," Zorro said as a noise caught his attention. "I must go before Mendoza finds courage in his meal."

He lifted Victoria's hand to his lips and kissed it reverently. As he made his escape, he noticed that she placed the hand over her heart as she watched him leave. He quickly turned away.

Zorro was climbing across rooftops back to where he had left Toronado when he noticed as a person on horseback came to a halt under a window on the side of the tavern. Using the horse, the person; who appeared to be a youth about Felipe's age; climbed up the wall and into the window. 

Intrigued, Zorro made his way back across the rooftops to the window and gave it a small push to open it a bit wider. Inside, the youth removed his hat, revealing that ‘he' was a ‘she' and her name was Francisca. She willingly went into a man's arms and they kissed passionately.

Zorro's stomach churned violently as he watched the couple grow more intimate. He averted his eyes and closed the window but made no move to leave.

Dear God, he thought, this was going to kill his father. Francisca was inside that room, making love with another man. The same woman who just an hour before had told him she desired his father and wanted to marry him.

Obviously a lie. He wondered now what kind of plot she was involved in with her lover. Did it included murder? Of just his father or were his days on earth numbered as well? 

Not if he had anything to do about it, he vowed. Zorro grimly walked back across the tiled rooftops to the waiting Toronado. His heart ached as he rode across the countryside back to the secret cave. How was he going to tell his father? He asked himself the question over and over again on the ride home and still had not come up with a satisfactory answer by the time he reached the cave's entrance.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - Another chapter whose title has no historical or amusing origins. I thought it was a fitting title because of Diego's suspicions about both women, Zafira and Francisca, and their motives for marrying him and his father. Of course, the ‘masked' part is obvious.


	15. A Bird in the Hand. . .

It was several days later when Felipe found Diego in the secret cave behind the hacienda. The older man was sitting at the large mahogany desk, idly twirling a quill between his fingers. He looked up when he noticed the boy coming into the room.

"I thought to write a note," said Diego, crumpling up the piece of paper he had been scribbling on. "But I don't know what to say." He tossed the aborted note at the pile of other wadded up balls of paper on the desk.

Felipe made several gestures that had Diego grimacing.

"Yes, I know I should have said something the other day when he caught us fencing in the foyer," Diego interpreted. "But how can I? Father is going to be totally devastated by the news the woman he is going to marry has a lover." Diego shook his head sadly. "It will kill him."

Nodding his head, Felipe then pointed toward the cave entrance. Diego got to his feet.

"I almost forgot," he said as he walked out from behind the desk. "Father wants me to go into town with him."

He put his hand on Felipe's shoulder and the two of them exited the cave.

[parts of the following scene taken from "Deceptive Heart" written by Bruce Lansbury]

A short while later, Diego walked out the front door of the hacienda with Don Alejandro. "Francisca and I, we've decided on an Easter wedding, Diego," said the old don. 

"An Easter wedding?" queried Diego, his voice full of concern. Easter was barely a month away. "Isn't that being a trifle hasty?"

"How ironic," his father replied with a short laugh. "It's always the young who are so impetuous. They have all the time in the world."

Diego stopped in his tracks and put his hand on the elder de la Vega's arm, bringing him to a halt as well. It was now or never, he thought, if he wanted to stop his father from making the biggest mistake of his life. "What if she's not the woman you think she is?"

"Diego!" Don Alejandro interjected. "Your tone disturbs me. Do you know something I don't?"

Diego crossed his arms over his broad chest. "Father, this is very difficult for me to say. . ."

Unfortunately what he had been about to reveal was interrupted by Francisca, who came running up to them. "Alejandro, Diego. I've been looking for you," she said breathlessly.

Don Alejandro was all smiles as he kissed her cheek. "Ah, Señora, we were just discussing the wedding," he stated.

"Ah, we have so much to prepare," said Francisca, taking a step back away from her novio.

"Precisely," agreed the old don. "Now, if you'll both have excuse me, I have an appointment with my lawyer. Francisca has suggested a contract and I've agreed."

"I thought you wanted me to come with. . ." Diego began.

"No," said his father. "You should stay here and get to know Francisca better. After all, she is going to be your new stepmother." He lifted Francisca's hand to his lips then headed toward the stables.

Diego felt awkward as he was left standing there with Francisca. Never, he told himself, this woman would never take the place of his mother. And if that meant hurting his father, it was just the price he would have to pay to keep this fortune hunter away from him. 

No doubt sensing his hostility, Francisca turned away from Diego before speaking. "You don't trust me, do you, Don Diego?" she asked cautiously.

"A good friend of mine, someone I trust, saw you with your lover last evening," declared Diego, trying to seem dispassionate.

Francisca paled. "Can I convince you that what your friend saw was not what it appeared to be between Ramirez and me?" she inquired in a cajoling tone.

"Ramirez?" queried Diego, the control over his temper cracking a little. "Your lover?"

"Once," Francisca conceded reluctantly. "I was younger, without parents. Easy to seduce. Later I realized what a monster he was, but by then I was virtually his slave." Tears began to leak from her eyes.

Diego did not buy her pitiful little story portraying her as a helpless victim. Not after what he had seen. "My friend did not see a master and slave at the tavern," he said impatiently.

Francisca turned away, wiping the tears from her face

"The truth," said Diego forcefully.

Francisca started walking away as she spoke. "Two months ago we are on a boat out of San Carlos. Ramirez's luck was out, he was desperate." She glanced up at Diego who was walking along side her. "I regret to my dying day for having introduce him to a kind, open-hearted woman who told of her correspondence with your father."

Diego stepped in front of Francisca, stopping her in her tracks, and looked down at her angrily. "Señora de la Peña," he surmised. He wondered what had happened to the poor woman, though he had a good idea of her fate.

"Her last letters with the suggestion of marriage were written by Ramirez, in her hand," explained Francisca, still drying the tears from her face.

"So you would marry my father and this scoundrel would take over his estates," said Diego. "And the real Señora de la Peña?"

"Ramirez drowned her off the boat," said Francisca flatly.

Diego nodded. That was what he thought had happened. "So he's truly a murderer."

"He'll be at the tavern later," Francisca informed him as she stared at the ground. "Have him arrested. I will testify to his crimes."

"You'll be on the next coach out," stated Diego unequivocally. "You will leave a gentle but firm message to my father explaining a change of heart." Maybe it would be better this way, he thought. Much better than finding out that the woman Don Alejandro thought he loved turning out to be a lying, cheating harpy with a murderous lover.

Francisca was nodding meekly. "Anything, I swear," she promised. Diego noticed that she was crying in earnest now.

"And surely I will be at the tavern," Diego declared. "And surely, Ramirez will hang." He turned and walked away, intending to ride into the pueblo to turn the murderer into the authorities.

He came around the outside of the hacienda and spied Felipe leaning against the building. Eavesdropping on his conversation with Francisca, he guessed with a smile

"Bring the carriage, Felipe," instructed Diego. "We must go to the pueblo immediately."

The lad started to obey but stopped in his tracks as Diego shouted, "Wait!" Felipe looked in the direction the other man was staring and watched as a white bird flew toward the pueblo.

"Ring-necked doves, grouse, and quail all abound in California,"stated Diego, "but not homing pigeons." So the devious little witch was warning her lover their ruse has been exposed. He had the horrible feeling he would be a dead man the moment he stepped foot in Los Angeles.

Diego then tipped his head, indicating that Felipe should follow him. "I have an idea," he said to the youth. "Come on."

They had just walked through the front door of the hacienda when Zafira came rushing up to them. "What did you say to Francisca?" she asked in a demanding voice. "She's in her room, crying her eyes out."

Diego closed his eyes. "It's nothing that concerns you, Zafira," he said firmly. 

"But she's my friend," his wife whinged. "I want to know what you did to her."

"I did nothing," declared Diego truthfully. "She brought this all upon herself." He glanced over for a second at Felipe, who kept his head down as he waited for them to finish.. "I need to go into town. If you will excuse me. . ."

"Diego de la Vega, you tell me what happened," said Zafira warningly. "Or I will never sleep with you again."

He laughed mirthlessly. "Hardly a threat, my dear," he said through clenched teeth as it had been six weeks since the last time she had allowed him into her bed. He looked over again at Felipe, who was pretending not to listen but whose young face was flushed with embarrassment. "However, this is neither the time nor the place to discuss such matters. I'm going into town. Adios."

This time he swept past her, Felipe following in his wake. Zafira spun around and stared at him, open-mouthed, he noticed as he glanced over his shoulder as he walked away.

Z Z Z

It was nearly an hour later Zorro and Felipe brought their wagon to a halt about half a mile outside the pueblo gate.

"This is as close as we should get," said Zorro, jumping down from the driver's seat. "Come on, help me get this set up."

Felipe climbed over the seat and into the wagon's bed, where he lifted a brown-striped blanket. Both he and Zorro hoisted the straw-filled form wearing Diego's brown suit and placed it in the wagon's seat. Felipe arranged the reins in the dummy's gloved hands as Zorro settled the sculpture of Diego's head onto the padded shoulders. He then plopped on the wig of black hair which they had made using hair from Toronado's mane and tail.

They walked backward several steps and admired their handiwork for a moment. Felipe signaled something to the man in black.

"Yes, I think it will fool anyone waiting to ambush the unsuspecting Don Diego," agreed Zorro. He then put a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Go back to the hacienda. I will take it from here."

Felipe shook his head defiantly before clearly gesturing his intentions. The masked man sighed wearily.

"Felipe, we've been over this before," he explained as he untied Toronado from the back of the wagon. "You cannot be seen assisting me. Your life would be as forfeit as mine if you were caught." He placed both hands on the lad's shoulders and made the youth look him in the eye. "You know I cannot let that happen. I'm your guardian. I am supposed to protect you, not get you hung for treason." 

Zorro smiled. "I will tell you all about it when I get back," he vowed. "Promise."

Felipe shrugged then nodded. He watched as the man in black slapped the horse's rump, sending it on its way into Los Angeles before he swung upon the black stallion's back and rode away..

It was much later that evening before Diego got a chance to keep his promise to Felipe. "Then Ramirez pulled out a pistol and aimed it at Zorro," he said as he neared the end of the tale as the two of them sat in the secret cave. "But Zorro flicked it into the air with his saber and caught it."

Diego mimicked the motion of catching the pistol as Felipe smiled. "Then," Diego continued, "Mendoza tried to arrest Zorro."

Felipe rolled his eyes. Diego laughed. "Yes, well, Zorro turned Ramirez over to the good sergeant instead." He shook his head. "I think that murderer will be locked up for a long time."

Felipe nodded solemnly then made the gesture they used for a woman.

"Who? Victoria?" said Diego, confused. "She was there but. . ." His voice trailed off as he noticed the youth's expression of consternation. "Oh, you meant Francisca," he said quietly. "She's going to jail as well."

Diego got to his feet, intending to leave but Felipe grabbed his arm. The lad's hands made a flurry of gestures that had Diego wincing.

"Why did I assume you meant Señorita Escalante?" he interpreted. He went over to the laboratory table and placed his hands on it, then bowed his head. "She was there, watching the fight. Zorro nearly bumped into her while he and Ramirez were fighting on the tavern porch. I guess that's why I. . ."

Felipe shook his head vehemently and Diego realized that the boy didn't believe him. Then the lad made several more signals.

"I know I'm married!" exclaimed Diego, slamming one of his hands against the table. "Every minute of every day!" He turned to stare at the youngster. "You know what she's like. I don't have to tell you what a shrew she can be." 

He turned his head away and gazed off into the back of the cave. "That's what I have to put up with every day. I know, it doesn't excuse anything. I didn't mean for this to happen. It just did."

Felipe pointed at Diego, then placed a hand over his heart, then made the sign for woman.

" _Si_ , I love Victoria," Diego replied. "But no one can know, Felipe. No one. Especially Zafira." He saw the look of confusion and concern in the young man's eyes. Realizing it was not right to unburden himself on the poor lad, he placed a hand on the boy's shoulder

"I'm sorry, Felipe," he apologized. "This is my problem, not yours. It's unfair to expect you to deal with it as well."

Diego tried to smile reassuredly at the youth, but failed miserably. Felipe nodded curtly then got to his feet, grabbing a broom. Sighing again, Diego also stood and watched at the boy started sweeping the stone floor. Shaking his head, he walked out of the cave.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "Deceptive Heart" written by Bruce Lansbury]

The next morning, Diego and Don Alejandro stepped out of the hacienda, one on either side of the fraudulent Señora de la Peña. During the Alcalde's interrogation of her the previous evening, they had learned her name was really Eva Machado and that she was from Veracruz. It sickened Diego to learned she was a year younger than he was. It was hard to believe she was such a hardened adventuress.

"Señor," Eva said to his father as they walked to the gate, "the real Francisca showed me some of your letters. You made her very happy. And I only wanted to say that if I met a man like you instead of Ramirez, I might have been a better woman."

The elder de la Vega stared down at her, either not having anything to say to her or not trusting himself to reply. A rattling noise drew his attention as two soldiers drove up to the hacienda with a prison wagon. Inside the cage, Eva's lover, Ramirez, was grasping onto the bars, glaring at them defiantly. One of the soldiers marched up to Eva and grabbed her by the arm. 

Diego and his father watched in silence as she was pushed into the back of the wagon and locked inside. Diego glanced over at the old don at his side and saw the pain that fleetingly passed over his face.

"You'll be over it soon enough," he advised.

Don Alejandro shrugged. The prison wagon drove away with the two criminals inside, clutching its bars. Zafira emerged from the hacienda as it rattled by the front gate.

"I cannot believe it," she said despondently. "I thought she was my friend."

Her father-in-law turned and put his arm around her shoulders. "She fooled us all, my dear," he said, his voice sad but touched with bitterness. Don Alejandro looked over at Diego, who stepped over to stand next to Zafira.

"So, you two have been married for almost a year now," the elder de la Vega stated. He eyed them speculatively. "So when am I getting a grandchild?"

"Father, please," said Diego, his face growing hot and flushed. It was hard to impregnate your wife when she would only allow you to make love to her on the odd, rare occasion, he thought angrily.

"Babies, Diego. I want babies!"

Zafira glanced furtively from one man to the other. "Father, I haven't had a chance to tell Diego yet," she said. She looked up at Diego and he was taken aback by the hatred he saw in her blue eyes.

"But I'm going to have a baby."

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - The beginning of the anonymous proverb ‘a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush'. 
> 
> In the episode "Deceptive Hearts" (episode 1.2), the scene where Francisca sends the homing pigeon to her lover always struck me as odd. Until that moment, there was no mention or scene showing her with a bird in her possession. But I thought the proverb made a good title.


	16. A Little More Than Kin

"A baby?" echoed Don Alejandro. "That's wonderful news!" He pulled Zafira into his arms and embraced her tightly. He then took a step back, smiling at her happily before glancing over at Diego. "Isn't that wonderful news, son?"

"Wonderful," murmured a stunned Diego. An tightness in his chest made it hard for him to breath. A child? Zafira was going to have a baby and she wasn't too happy about it, if her expression was anything to go by. 

His father, however, was ecstatic by the news. "When?" asked Don Alejandro, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

"October, I think," Zafira replied after counting on her fingers.

"You've just made me the happiest man in the world," said the old don. He hugged Zafira again then he started walking them both toward the hacienda. "We'll have to redecorate the nursery and find Diego's old cradle. There's so much to do."

"And seven months to do it," said Diego sarcastically under his breath. He was pleased though that the prospect of a grandchild gave his father something to fuss about, hopefully helping him forget about his aborted romance. With a heavy sigh, he followed his wife and his father back inside the hacienda.

"Maria! Maria!" called out the elder de la Vega as he walked through the foyer with Zafira clutching his arm. 

The housekeeper appeared at once. " _Si, Patrón_."

"Maria," began Don Alejandro, grinning broadly, "I want you to have two of the girls clear out the small room we've been using for storage." He gave his daughter-in-law's shoulders a squeeze. "I'm going to be a grandfather!"

The expression on the housekeeper's face did not change although Diego thought he saw a little spark light up her eyes. " _Si, Patrón_ ," she replied. "I'll see to it at once."

She started to turn away. Don Alejandro spoke to her retreating back. "And if they find the cradle, get two of the men to refinish it. I imagine it will need some work. It hasn't been used since Diego was a baby."

Diego noticed the touch of sadness in his father's voice and looked at his face, which wore a melancholy expression for a brief moment before breaking out into another big smile.

"What color do you want it painted, my dear?" the old don asked Zafira. "White? Yellow?"

"Those both sound nice," she replied apathetically. "Whatever you think best." She extracted herself from her father-in-law's grasp. "I think I'll take a nap."

"Oh, yes, yes," agreed his father. "Of course." Both he and Diego watched as Zafira ambled leisurely toward her bedroom. The elder de la Vega slapped Diego on the back.

"Congratulations, son," he said. He was still grinning as he walked toward the kitchen.

Later that evening, after dinner, of which Zafira had eaten very little, Diego opened the connecting door between their rooms. His wife sat at her vanity table, brushing her hair listlessly. She turned quickly, however, when she noticed his presence and threw her silver filigreed hairbrush at him. 

"Get out!"

Diego deftly dodged out of the way and the brush hit the wall before falling to the floor. "Zafira," he said in a pacifying voice. "I just want us to talk. I. . ."

"I don't have anything to say to you," she hissed, picking up a perfume bottle. "This is all your fault."

"The baby?" He chuckled a little. "If I recall, you were a participant in its creation as well."

His mind drifted back though to the last handful of times they had made love, nearly two months earlier. Zafira had initiated every encounter since they had arrived in California. But those last few times. . . Diego closed his eyes as he remembered how unresponsive she had been. How she wouldn't let him kiss her lips. How she wouldn't look at him, instead keeping her eyes tightly closed.

It had been a bit unnerving. Diego had been almost relieved at first when she stopped coming into his room. But it still didn't explain his spouse's hostile attitude about being pregnant.

"Zafira," he began a bit coldly as she glared crossly at him. "I know you're not happy now, but. . ."

"I haven't been happy since the day I married you," she cut in, setting the bottle back down on her vanity. "Having a baby isn't going to change that."

"But it is an innocent in all of this," he declared worriedly. "You saw my father. He's overjoyed by this news."

"Oh, yes," Zafira said sarcastically. "An heir to carry on the de la Vega name." She stood up, cinching the sash on her dressing gown. "You'd both better pray it's a boy, " she sneered, "because this will never happen again. Now, get out of my room."

Diego stared at her for a few moments. He saw the truth of what she was saying in her eyes. That she would go through with the pregnancy. That she wouldn't do anything to harm the child inside her. A sigh of relief escaped his lips.

"As you wish," he said before turning on his heel and striding from the room.

Z Z Z

The next few weeks were filled with plans for the upcoming baby. Don Alejandro had launched himself wholeheartedly into the preparations, not noticing the indifferent stance of his daughter-in law. It almost broke Diego's heart to watch his father's excitement in the face of his wife's false cheerfulness. He was nearly grateful for the distractions that the alcalde provided. First, Ramone had tried to monopolize the pueblo's water supply. Zorro had thwarted that plan, thanks to the unwitting help of Sergeant Mendoza. 

It did weigh heavily on his mind that a man had been killed because of his masquerade. A man whom the alcalde had hired to impersonate him and to sully his reputation. And who had been killed by Ramone's own hand, thinking he was shooting the real Zorro. Diego tried to tell himself it had been the risk the impostor assumed when he had taken the alcalde's money. But he couldn't help but feel guilty about it.

[parts of the following scene taken from "The Best Man" written by Robert L McCullough]

Two weeks after the impostor's death, a letter from Diego's cousin, Rafael, threw the hacienda into another frenzy of activity. He was bringing his fiancée to Los Angeles to get Don Alejandro's approval, as head of the de la Vega family, of the marriage. 

Don Alejandro strode into the room, buttoning his cuffs as Diego picked out a few notes on the piano. "Diego! They're here!" The old don gazed appraisingly at his son. "You're rather well-dressed."

Diego looked down at his light blue suit, which was the finest one he owned and shrugged. "Well, it's not every day my cousin Rafael makes the journey south from Santa Barbara with a new fiancée, no less. You know. . ." He rose up from the piano bench. "It's hard to believe Rafael is actually getting married."

"Not anymore difficult to believe that you're going to be a father," stated the elder de la Vega, his grin threatening to split his face. "It's wonderful both of you are living up to your responsibilities as de la Vegas."

" _Si_ , of course," replied Diego, rolling his eyes. 

"Where is Zafira?" queried Don Alejandro, glancing around the hacienda.

"She's, she's not feeling well this morning," Diego answered through gritted teeth. A fact she had let him know in no uncertain terms was his fault when he had passed by her room that morning.

"She's all right, isn't she?" the old don inquired worriedly.

"Just morning sickness, I believe," said Diego. He was a bit concerned though. Zafira's nausea seemed to last most of the day and she had to be unnaturally thin for a woman nearing her fourth month of pregnancy.

The two men exited the hacienda and walked quickly to reach the gate, arriving just in time to watch as a buggy pulled up in front of the hacienda. Rafael jumped out and greeted his uncle and cousin before assisting his fiancée, Margarita de Madera, a pretty girl with lively hazel eyes and curling brown hair, from the conveyance.

Diego watched as his father raised her hand, placing a gentlemanly kiss upon it as Rafael made the introductions.

"Welcome to our fair pueblo," Diego greeted her warmly. 

"Thank you," replied Margarita, smiling cheerfully. She was positively bouncing with enthusiasm. "I've been looking forward to visiting Los Angeles for quite some time."

"We're flattered," stated Diego before looking over at his father who shrugged. 

"Of course, it's delightful meeting all of you," the young lady continued excitedly. "But the truth is, I just can't wait to meet Zorro."

Diego glanced worriedly over at his cousin, who still wore a smile on his face. But Diego could see the concern in Rafael's eyes at his novia's words.

Once inside the hacienda, glasses of wine were passed around and Don Alejandro made a toast to the young couple. "To beauty. To youth. To love," he said, raising his glass.

Diego also lifted his glass. "And to wisdom," he added before everyone took a sip of their drinks. 

"Can one be both romantic and wise?" inquired Margarita, gazing up at Diego coyly.

He chuckled mirthlessly. "One had better be, Señorita," he replied. If only he had learned that nugget of truth a little sooner, he thought forlornly.

Felipe rushed into the room then and frantically caught Diego's eye. "What is it, Felipe?" he asked. He was coming to know that look on the youngster's face. Something was happening that needed Zorro's immediate attention.

"Trouble. . .in town. . .soldiers," Diego interpreted the lad's gestures correctly as affirmed by Felipe's vigorous nod.

"Soldiers!" interjected Don Alejandro, setting down his drink. "I should go."

Rafael got to his feet as well. "I'm going with you."

"So am I," Margarita chimed in as she rose from her chair.

"The pueblo's under martial law, my dear," said the elder de la Vega, shaking his head. " It's no place for a woman."

Margarita stamped her foot. "Oh, nonsense. This will be the perfect time to see Los Angeles," she said querulously. She turned to face at Diego. "Besides, you'll be there to protect us, won't you?" she asked, smiling up at him.

Diego shook his head. "Actually I have some reading to catch up on," he stated, wincing inwardly at the display of cowardice he was forced to show in front of his cousin.

"Reading, Diego?" queried Rafael, the disappointment Diego knew he would hear clear in the other man's tone.

"Diego has his own interests, nephew," said his father in the way of a feeble defense. 

Margarita stared at him disapprovingly. "You would let your father go alone?" she inquired.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, these things always have a way of working themselves out," he said casually. "Besides, Zafira might need me."

Rafael glanced over at Don Alejandro, whose face told Diego that his father wasn't quite convinced of this last excuse. Margarita stomped out of the room in a huff as the other men departed as well. Felipe made a ‘Z' in the air with his finger and Diego nodded.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "The Best Man" written by Robert L McCullough]

It was nearly two hours later when a servant opened the door at the de la Vega hacienda, admitting Margarita, Rafael, and Don Alejandro inside. Diego was in the parlor painting a picture of a decorative plate and a vase of flowers. Zafira sat on a nearby settee, desultorily working on a piece of embroidery.

The elder de la Vega went straight over to the wine decanter and pour out three glasses. "I was just glad there was enough distraction for you to escape arrest," he said to his nephew as he handed him a glass.

"The alcalde can't arrest me with sufficient charge," declared Rafael hotly before taking a sip from his glass.

Margarita ignored the other two men and turned excitedly to Diego. "Guess who we saw?" she asked and before he could reply, she answered herself. "Zorro!"

"That's always fun," commented Diego, not looking up from his painting.

"Oh, I've never seen anything like him," gushed Margarita. "He made fools of all the alcalde's men."

"This Zorro's the fool," Rafael retorted angrily. 

"I agree," said Zafira, setting aside her needlework.

"Oh, my dear!" exclaimed Don Alejandro, suddenly noticing she was sitting there. "I'm so glad you're feeling better. Rafael, Margarita, this is my daughter, Diego's wife, Zafira."

She stood up slowly as Rafael took her hand and bowed over it. His novia, however, barely acknowledged the other woman, smiling insincerely as they were presented to each other.

"My new cousin is quite beautiful," said Rafael.

" _Gracias_ , Señor," Zafira replied, smiling up at him. She touched her hand to her stomach. "I'm not feeling so beautiful these days."

"Oh, nonsense," said the elder de la Vega. He came over and put his arm around her waist. "You're the most beautiful woman in the world. Isn't that right, Diego?"

"Of course, Father," Diego agreed diplomatically. 

"You are quite right about this Zorro, Cousin Rafael," said Zafira, changing the subject as she sat back down. "He is an utter fool to think he is helping the people of Los Angeles by brandishing his sword around and stealing from the government."

Rafael nodded. "The peasants might be fond of him, but under law, he's just another criminal," he remarked.

"That's true," acquiesced Don Alejandro. "If he's ever caught, Zorro will surely hang."

"And that would be something to see," said Diego, pretending to be still absorbed in his painting. Rafael walked around to take look as Diego dabbed at the canvas with his brush.. 

"I think my best man is quite an artist," he said.

Diego looked up at Rafael in surprise. "Me?" His cousin nodded. "Rafael, I'm honored," he replied, genuinely pleased.

Rafael lifted his glass of wine. "A toast to my best man," he proposed.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - Another line from Shakespeare, this time from "Hamlet", Act One, Scene Two, and spoken by Hamlet: ‘a little more than kin, a little less than kind.'
> 
> Since this chapter dealt with Zafira's announcement and the visit by Diego's cousin Rafael and his bride-to be, I thought it was a fitting title.
> 
> The second half of the line is used as the title of chapter twenty-five, which also has a family theme


	17. The Best Laid Plans. . .

[parts of the following scene taken from "The Best Man" written by Robert L McCullough]

Everyone was stunned by Margarita's response to her novio's announcement. She stomped her foot then spun on her heel around and started walking out of the room. 

"Margarita!" called Rafael. "A toast!" He began to go after her.

She swirled back around. "To what?" she asked petulantly. "There's not going to be any wedding." She then turned again and ran off down a hallway. 

His cousin tried to make excuses for her but Diego alone knew what was troubling the young woman. He volunteered to go reason with her. He found her staring out a window that overlooked the courtyard. "Margarita?" he queried cautiously. She didn't deign to turn around but keep staring morosely out the panes of glass. 

"Rafael loves you very much," stated Diego, hoping it was true. "I think you know that." He stepped in front of her. "He's a good man, my cousin."

Margarita slowly lifted her face to gaze at him. "But I cannot marry him," she said firmly.

"Why not?"

"I love another man," said Margarita.

Diego stared at her in disbelief. "Another man?" he inquired worriedly, knowing now what he feared was true.

"I love Zorro," she said passionately. Then she flounced away, going to the guest room designated for her use and slamming the door.

Later that night, Diego sat alone in the secret cave, wondering what to do about his dilemma. He had tried unsuccessfully to dissuade Rafael from seeking a confrontation with Zorro. He had no desire to fight with his cousin over Margarita. She was a beautiful woman but Diego had no feelings for her beyond the fact she had been going to marry into the family.

It seemed pointless to him for anyone to be injured or, God forbid, killed over such a fickle, flighty woman. Even Zafira thought Margarita was an idiot for jilting a good man like Rafael for an outlaw she didn't even know.

Personally he thought his cousin was well clear of the woman. But for some reason, Rafael still loved her and still insisted she was going to marry him. He had heard the two arguing outside their rooms after dinner. Tactfully, he had turned around and headed toward the library.

Diego twisted a white quill between his fingers as he thought about how he could help his cousin. Obviously Margarita was blinded by Zorro's heroics. If only he could bring Rafael into a courageous light, maybe his faithless fiancée would swing her affections away from the man in black and back to her novio.

Z Z Z

The plan that he and Felipe implemented the next morning seemed easy enough; have Felipe ride a wildly bucking horse into the plaza where Rafael and Margarita had gone to the market and let his cousin rescue the lad. Then Margarita would fall in love with his cousin again. It was almost fool-proof.

But about an hour after he had left, a dejected Felipe rode into the de la Vega stables where an anxious Diego awaited his return. "It didn't work?" he asked the boy unnecessarily.

Felipe shook his head then launched into a series of hand gestures that Diego had a little trouble keeping up with as they walked toward the hacienda.

"The alcalde has thrown Rafael and Margarita out of the pueblo?" he asked, finally understanding the lad's signs. Felipe nodded. "And he's giving them two hours to leave?"

The youth nodded again as they entered the house. Diego wandered into the library and sat down on a settee, rubbing his chin absently. Felipe tapped him on the arm and made several more motions with his hands.

"Margarita and Señorita Victoria got into a fight?" queried Diego with a smile. "Over Zorro?" He shook his head. "That would have been something to see." He chuckled softly as he saw in his head the picture of the fiercely loyal Victoria taking on the inconstant Margarita. 

The front door being slammed closed interrupted Diego's musings. A red-faced Rafael came striding into the hacienda, dragging a truculent Margarita in with him.

"Let go of me, Rafael!" she said as she tried to twist her forearm from his grasp. "You're hurting me!"

Diego got to his feet and rushed over to the where the couple now stood. He shot his cousin a look that made Rafael drop Margarita's arm like it was on fire.

"Stay out of it, Diego," he warned. "We have to go pack. Your alcalde has banned us from Los Angeles, all because my fickle fiancée cannot act like a mature woman."

"That. . .that. . . tavern wench," Margarita spat out. "She said Zorro was in love with _her_. She's just a common trollop. What would a man like him ever see in her, she's nothing but a har. . ."

"That's quite enough, Señorita," cut in Diego sternly, unable to listen to the insults to Victoria's good name. "You'd better go start packing."

Margarita stared at him open-mouthed for a few moments. "You're not. . . You're not going to help us stay?" she asked in a shocked tone. Then her lips curled into a sneer. "No, of course, you wouldn't, would you, Diego?"

She turned and flounced off, no doubt going in search of his father to plead her case. Diego shook his head before facing his cousin.

"I'm sorry, Rafael," he apologized.

"This is not your fault, Diego," the other man replied. "Margarita is spoiled and willful. Her parents overindulge her. . ."

"And you still want to marry her?" Diego asked a little incredulously. He thought of his own disaster of a marriage to a spoiled, willful woman and would not wish the same thing upon his cousin.

Rafael glanced to his right, then his left, then at Diego. "I have to marry her, Cousin," he announced quietly. "I've. . . We've. . ." He shook his head. "I am honor-bound to wed her. It's my duty."

I see," said Diego, understanding only too well. It seemed thinking with what was in their pants instead of their heads was a characteristic that the de la Vega men shared. It was certainly what caused the mess in which he was now living. He patted his cousin on the shoulder. "Come on, I'll help you get ready to leave."

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "The Best Man" written by Robert L McCullough]

Diego lost little time making his way to the secret cave after his cousin and his novia had departed the hacienda. In a matter of minutes, with Felipe's help, he had dressed as Zorro and was sitting on Toronado's back as the lad handed him the horse's reins.

"We must make sure that Margarita changes her mind about marrying my cousin, " Zorro said. "Our last attempt to help Margarita see Rafael in a heroic light was a spectacular failure. This time, we'll be all alone out on the highway. The Alcalde won't be around to interfere." 

He gave Felipe a wave, then ducked down as he and the stallion made their exit through the low ceilinged tunnel. Twenty minutes later, man and horse had arrived at Tres Equinas but unfortunately, not before Sergeant Mendoza, or two of his lancers, who were fighting with his cousin (who was holding his own quite nicely, he thought) as Margarita threw out pieces of luggage out of the buggy to distract the sword-wielding soldiers.

The good sergeant, however, was sitting on a rock, watching the contest and eating a chorizo. Zorro chuckled to himself before sliding off Toronado's back and walked stealthily behind the stout soldier. He came to a halt on a boulder about three feet from the unsuspecting man's back. He unsheathed his saber and used it to tap Mendoza on the shoulder, gaining the sergeant's attention. 

The encounter ended with Mendoza trying to pull up his trousers as he and his lancers ran over to their horses. In seconds, the three soldiers had mounted their animals and were riding away as if the devil were on their tails.

Margarita stepped out of the buggy and hurried over to Zorro, who jumped down from the boulder as she approached.

"Ah, just the sight of you frightened them off!" Margarita gushed breathlessly.

"Are you all right?" he asked chivalrously. She nodded.

Rafael came toward them, his expression angry. "Thank you for your concern but we're just fine," he ground out, grabbing Margarita's arm and moving her away from Zorro. "And we'll be even better when you've met your proper end."

Zorro held out his hand. "You know we have no quarrel." He hoped Rafael wouldn't do anything foolish so he could implement his plan to make his novia see him as the hero.

"Defend yourself or die" challenged Rafael, pointing his sword at Zorro's chest.

"Of necessity, as you wish." Privately Zorro wished his cousin had not inherited the hot temper of the de la Vegas. But since he had. . . 

The man in black saluted his opponent with his sword. Not bothering with such niceties, Rafael lunged at Zorro, who parried the thrust easily. It wasn't too long before he was driving Rafael backward behind the shelter of some large boulders, out of Margarita's sight. Zorro then knocked the sword from Rafael's hand and explained what he had in mind to do for his cousin to regain his novia's affections.

It had almost been too simple. He allowed Rafael to have the upper hand, driving him out from behind the boulders. Zorro had thought that the other man's acting abilities left something to be desired but Margarita seemed to believe her novio had actually defeated the mighty Zorro. 

He had ridden away but had turned and watched them reconcile from a safe distance. He smiled grimly as he saw the fickle woman kiss Rafael on the cheek before the couple drove off in their buggy.

Z Z Z

Half an hour later found him riding once again through the narrow tunnel of the secret cavern under the hacienda. He had expected to find Felipe there waiting for him, just not in the state of panic the young man was obviously in.

"What's wrong?" he inquired as he dismounted Toronado. "What's happened?"

The boy started gesturing wildy, as if trying to get all the words out at once. The only sign that he recognized was the one they used for Zafira.

"Zafira? Something's wrong with my wife?" Zorro had started to undress but stopped after he pulled off his shirt. Felipe nodded. 

As soon as he had changed, Diego bound out of the fireplace panel and into the library. He strode into the foyer where he literally bumped into his father.

"Son! Where have you been?" demanded the elder de la Vega. Not waiting for an answer, he grabbed Diego's arm. "Not now. The doctor is in with her."

"The doctor?" asked Diego stupidly.

Don Alejandro stopped and spun around to face his offspring. "She's losing the baby, Diego," he announced a bit testily. "And if you had been here instead of off gallivanting who knows where, doing who knows what. . ."

He tightened his grip on Diego's upper arm and unnecessarily dragged him down the hallway to the bedchambers. Several of the servants stood outside the door to Zafira's room, their gloomy faces telling Diego everything he needed to know. His wife had not endeared herself to the people of the hacienda. For them to be so concerned for her was not a good sign.

Diego opened the door and stepped inside the room. Doctor Hernandez and the housekeeper, Maria, were hovering over the bed. The bed where a deathly pale Zafira lay, her eyes closed as a grimace of pain contorted her usually lovely features. The physician turned and saw Diego, whispered something to Maria then came towards him.

"I'm afraid there's nothing we can do now, Don Diego," he announced with a shake of his head. "It's too late to save the baby."

Diego turned away from Hernandez and stared down at Zafira. " _Gracias_ , Doctor," he said graciously. "I'm sure you've done all you can. Will. . . Will Zafira be all right?"

She's lost the baby, he thought to himself. _She's lost our baby_. Suddenly, a rush of sadness swept through him, staggering him with its force. His child was gone, poof, as if it never existed. He found his way to a chair and sat down, cupping his head in his hands. The doctor patted him gently on the shoulder.

"She's young and healthy, Don Diego," the physician said reassuringly. "There will be more children, don't worry."

Diego raised up to look at the man. No, he thought savagely, there would be no more children because he knew that Zafira never intended to let him touch her again. But the kind eyes of the man before him didn't know that. And Diego decided to mask his pain and accept the other man's pity.

"As long as there is no fever, she should be back on her feet in about a week or so," pronounced Hernandez. Flicking his eyes toward the two women then back at Diego, he added, "No marital relations for at least two months. She needs time to recover."

" _Si, si_ ," Diego responded automatically. He remained seated in the chair until the doctor had re-packed his bag and then he and Maria had left the room. Then Diego got to his feet and departed the room as well. 

He made his way down the hallway, to the small room that was being prepared as the nursery for a child who no longer existed. He looked at the walls that had been painted a sunny yellow. He stared at the refurbished cradle, painted white, and made up with a colorful patchwork quilt he remembered from his youth. 

He knelt down beside the crib and rocked it gently. He tried to console himself with the thought that the miscarriage was just nature's way of taking care of its mistakes. That it was better this way, to lose the child now rather than later.

But Diego couldn't shake the feeling Zafira had done something to end her pregnancy. She had nearly stopped eating. She had become so thin and pale. Had that harmed the baby? Or had it been just normal morning sickness? He should have been more insistent with her, he thought guiltily, he should have made sure she ate a healthy diet.

He shook his head. It was too late for recriminations now. The baby was gone. Diego placed his hand on the now offensively cheerful coverlet.

"I'm so sorry, little one," he said, stroking the quilt absently. "You would have been loved. More than you'll ever know."

He stood up and left the room then, tears running unchecked down his face.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - The actual quote is ‘the best laid scheme o' mice and men gang aft a-gley, an' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain for promis'd joy' from "To a Mouse" by Robert Burns (1759 - 1796) a Scottish poet and songwriter.
> 
> Another fitting title as there were various plans discussed and implemented during this chapter, which was based on the episode "The Best Man" (episode 1x05).


	18. Lost

About a month later, Diego stepped into the tavern late one afternoon. It had been a busy day at the de la Vega hacienda and he needed the respite a glass or two of lemonade would provide. Plus he wanted to spend a little time in Victoria's presence. Diego didn't know what it was about the lovely innkeeper, but just a few minutes with her seemed to refresh his soul.

And refreshing he did need. Zafira still had not recovered from the miscarriage she had suffered. She was progressing physically, but mentally. . . Diego had to wince as he leaned up against the bar and waited for Victoria to acknowledge him.

He had no idea of what was going on in his wife's mind. Zafira spent most of her time curled up on the settee in the parlor, staring at everything and nothing. She didn't cry, she didn't shout, she simply existed.

Diego had tried several times to get her to discuss what had happened before finally giving up. She just would look at him blankly and then get up from the settee, leaving the room. Diego had stayed kneeling; his head in his hands the last time he had attempted to draw her out, until his father had touched him on the shoulder.

"Give her time, son," Don Alejandro had counseled. Diego had glanced up to see the pain in the elder de la Vega's eyes and realized he was hurting too. The loss of his first grandchild was weighing heavily on his father.

" _Buenos dias_ , Don Diego."

The pleasant voice of Victoria Escalante drove Diego from his painful musings. " _Buenos dias_ , Señorita," he greeted her warmly. "A glass of lemonade, _por favor_."

Victoria nodded before reaching down under the counter and bringing out a glass, which she placed in front of Diego. Then she brought up a pitcher from under the bar and poured its contents into the glass.

"How is Doña Zafira doing?" she inquired politely.

"As well as can be expected," he replied without emotion before taking a sip of the lemonade. " _Gracias_."

Victoria stared at him for a few moments before turning toward the kitchen. She paused in her tracks, however, when Sergeant Mendoza and several other lancers tromped into the tavern.

"Oh, I am so tired," complained the sergeant. He and the other soldiers sat down at a table across from where Diego was standing. "I am so sick of patrolling."

Diego had to hide a smile. Everyone knew that Mendoza disliked doing anything that took him away from the pueblo and the comforts it provided. His whining ceased once Victoria placed a big mug of ale in front of him. Diego sauntered over to the lancers' table.

"Why is the Alcalde making you and your men go out on patrol?" he asked casually.

"Travelers coming from the north have been reporting a couple of bandits have been harassing them," the sergeant answered. "We didn't find any trace of any such men. Some people just like to complain."

Again, Diego struggled not to grin. "Bandits, huh?" he echoed. 

" _Si_ , Don Diego," Mendoza replied after taking a big drink from his mug. "We practically went all the way to Santa Paula."

"Hmm." Diego finished his glass of lemonade and walked over to set it down on the bar. He extracted several coins from his pocket and set them down beside his glass. Victoria looked up at him, a questioning expression on her face.

"I'm buying a round for the sergeant and his men," Diego announced. The soldiers all cheered at the news.

" _Gracias_ , Don Diego," said Mendoza, a wide grin threatening to split his round face. He scooted over on the bench he was sitting on. "Come and sit with us."

Diego shook his head. "Sorry, Sergeant," he apologized. "I have to be getting home." He gave the lancers a little salute then turned to leave the tavern. He stopped in the doorway and glanced over his shoulder, watching as Victoria refilled the soldiers' mugs. She saw him standing there in the door and smiled.

Diego turned away quickly so she could not see the effect just one of her smiles had on him. If anything, his infatuation grew stronger every time he saw her, either as himself or as Zorro. He knew it was unfair to both his wife and the beautiful señorita, but he didn't know what else to do. There was no way he could put his marriage aside. And even if he were free, there was no guarantee that Victoria would want him. 

Like it or not, she was in love with Zorro, not Don Diego de la Vega. Sighing resignedly, Diego continued on his way out of the tavern.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "Zorro's Other Woman" written by Greg O'Neill]

The next afternoon, he rode out as his masked alter-ego. He headed toward Santa Paula, avoiding the main road, instead cutting back and forth across it. He had seen how the lancers patrolled an area. They marched straight out, then straight back. They never searched the nooks and crannies that were more than likely hiding what they were looking for.

Zorro chuckled. The garrison soldiers' laziness was probably what kept his hideout from being discovered. Although it was very well hidden, it wouldn't take all that much effort to find it if one was very determined. 

He and Toronado came upon the bank of a river. They cantered through the shallow water, crossing over to the other side. Looking down at the ground, Zorro espied some wagon tracks near some rocky terrain.

"I wonder what these tracks are doing here," he wondered aloud as the tracks were quite a distance from the main road. Glancing up, he noticed a plume of smoke wafting upward from behind some huge boulders.

Zorro dismounted Toronado and slapped a gloved hand to the horse's rear flank. "Meet you on the other side, old boy," he said. The stallion whinnied in reply and took off to the right. The masked man went to the left and climbed up on the large rocks. 

He came to a halt a few minutes later and gazed down upon the scene below. Two men stand with their backs to the fire, rummaging through a trunk. One of the men pulled out a blue dress and held it up against his body, causing both of the men to laugh raucously.

Zorro could be silent no longer. "Most attractive, Señor. But not your style," he announced from his perch above them. 

Predictably, the two thieves dropped their loot and drew out their pistols. Zorro jumped down from the boulders, landing cat-like near the fire. He immediately uncoiled his whip and lashed it at the flames, driving the smoke into the bandits' faces. Both men were choking and gagging as they tried vainly to cover their eyes and noses.

"Let's get out of here," one of the men suggested. His companion must have agreed because both of them took off running. Zorro quickly pursued them as they ran through an opening in the rocks and past the wagon that they had obviously stolen.

"You can run but you can't. . ." he started to threaten before a noise from the wagon stopped him in his tracks, ". . .cry?"

"She's all yours now, Zorro," said one of the men as he jumped onto the back of his horse at the same time as his partner in crime. Both men rode off without looking back but laughing almost hysterically.

The man in black was stunned. "She?" He turned around and peered into the wagon. A basket woven of reeds rested inside the wagon's bed and inside the basket was an infant clad in a white dress with pink ribbons.

Definitely a she, Zorro thought as he reached down to pick up the baby. The child began to fuss then let out a loud wail when she focused on his face. Zorro smiled wryly. It seemed his mask frightened both banditos and babies.

"Ah, niña," he crooned, trying to comfort her. He patted her tiny tummy before glancing over his shoulder to glare at the fleeing thieves. The baby ceased crying until he turn back around and looked at her again.

Lovely, he thought. Just lovely. He had to find someone to take care of this little lamb, but who? Zafira was out of the question. Placing the baby back into its basket, his heart contracted as he thought of the child they had lost. It would be unnecessarily cruel to expect her to attend to this infant so soon after the miscarriage. She was barely taking care of herself.

Zorro carried the niña over to where Toronado was waiting patiently. With a suddenly weary sigh, he carefully swung up into the saddle. After adjusting the basket so it would ride securely, he urged the Andalusian forward.

Z Z Z

Diego knew a thirteen-year old boy was probably not the best person to take care of a small infant, but he hadn't known what else to do. Zorro had brought the baby back to the secret cave where Felipe had been waiting for his return. And with a very guilty expression on his young face too, Diego had thought. No doubt the lad had been fiddling around with the swords that Diego had forbidden him to play with unless he was there to supervise.

He chuckled. There was probably no worse punishment he could inflict on Felipe than to watch over a crying, smelly little niña. She had done something foul in her diaper during the ride to the cave. He chuckled again.

Diego's face became serious again as he stepped out of the fireplace and into the library. Zafira wasn't in her usual place upon the settee in the parlor. He could hear several people talking, with his father's voice being the only one he recognized.

Intrigued, he strolled through the library and into the foyer. "Ah, Diego, there you are," proclaimed Don Alejandro. "Come greet our guests."

Diego walked into the parlor where the elder de la Vega was holding court. An older man and three women of varying ages sat perched on chairs, holding glasses of wine in their hands. His father quickly poured another glass and thrust it into his son's hands.

"Diego, this is _Señor y Señora_ Moreno, from San Bernadino," Don Alejandro introduced the older man and woman. He then indicated a slightly younger woman. "This is the señora's sister, Señora Rojas. And this is their daughter, Rosita." 

The señorita looked up at Diego through her long lashes and licked her lips. Gulping nervously, Diego bowed to Señor Moreno, then took the proffered hands of the women and bestowed upon them a courtesy kiss. Señorita Rosita kept a tight grip on his hand before slowly letting it go.

"Where is Zafira?" Diego asked his father.

"In her room changing," replied the elder de la Vega. "I've invited the Morenos to stay for supper."

"Indeed," said Diego nonchalantly.

"We met your lovely bride when we arrived," stated Señora Moreno. "Such a darling girl."

Diego smiled insincerely. "Yes, yes, a lovely girl," said Don Alejandro briskly. "Now if you will excuse us, Don Guillermo and I have a transaction we need to discuss before we dine. Ladies." 

He bowed to the women. The old don waited while his guest got to his feet then both men walked out of the parlor, leaving an uncomfortable Diego alone with the three females. The señorita flirted openly with him, evidently not caring that her mother and aunt were sitting right there or that he was a married man.

The evening seemed interminable. Zafira finally made an appearance just before dinner. Diego was pleased to see that she had done something with her hair and had put on a clean dress. She hardly spoke throughout the meal, however, and didn't even look up as Señorita Rosita blatantly continued to use her feminine wiles on her husband. 

Finally, Diego managed to escape the impromptu dinner party while showing Señorita Rosita a painting he had recently received from Spain. He didn't feel guilty at all about leaving the bold young lady staring at the work of art in the library while he disappeared through the fireplace panel. 

Felipe had been alone in the cave with the baby for nearly four hours. The youth had been punished enough, Diego surmised, and decided it was about time to take pity on the poor lad.

[parts of the following scene taken from "Zorro's Other Woman" written by Greg O'Neill]

The teenager was indeed looking desperate when Diego walked down the steps into the cave. He was walking the floor with the squalling infant in his arms. Diego held out his hands.

"I know this isn't easy, Felipe," he said as he took the baby from the young man. He bounced the little niña as he tried to get her to stop crying. "Shh. . . Shh. . ."

Diego felt the tug on his heartstrings as he gazed down upon the baby girl. He could have had a daughter like the one he held in his arms. Or perhaps a son, a heir to carry on the de la Vega name. He wished Zafira would talk to him about the child they had lost. Maybe it would ease some of the pain which both of them were carrying in their hearts.

He got out his pocket watch as Felipe stumbled away and flopped down on some burlap bags near Toronado's stall. The dangling shiny object didn't interest the baby at all as she continue her fussing. Diego glanced down at what the niña was wearing on her bottom.

"You could find nothing else to use than my study of Archimedes as a diaper?" he asked archly, sending the youth a disgusted look. It was the only copy he had of the study on which he had spent hours working. And now all that effort was lost.

Felipe shrugged his shoulders with a look of exasperation on his face.

Diego stared down at the baby while still swinging his watch over her tiny face. "Such a dilemma, little one. What are we going to do with you? Hmm?" He glanced over and chuckled at Felipe who slashed a ‘Z' in the air with his finger then put his hands together in a begging gesture.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "Zorro's Other Woman" written by Greg O'Neill]

Zorro stood at the back door of the tavern, looking down into the woven basket. Fortunately, the baby was asleep, or she would have been howling at the sight of his masked face.

He knew he was doing the right thing. That the beautiful innkeeper was the right person to care for the infant. She had a certain maternal quality about her, he had noticed. Then his stomach tightened as the idea of her being the mother of his children flashed through his mind. He closed his eyes as the wave of pain washed over him. He had to stop thinking of the life he could have had if he had not acted so impulsively in marrying Zafira. A life that was now lost to him forever.

Exhaling deeply, Zorro opened the door and stepped into the warm, delicious smelling kitchen. Victoria spun around and smiled at him.

"Zorro."

He held out the basket toward her. She clasped her hands together excitedly when she saw what it contained.

"Ooh, she's beautiful," crooned Victoria as she peered down at the baby.

Even though the child wasn't his, he still inexplicably felt a surge of pride that she thought the little niña was pretty. "Yes," he replied a bit smugly.

"She's a treasure," Victoria said as she continued to gaze at the infant. Then she abruptly looked up at Zorro. "She is yours?"

He had to conceal his reaction to her obvious concern that he was the father of the little girl. On one hand, he was glad because it showed him that she had feelings for him. But on the other, those feelings were for Zorro, not Diego de la Vega. Which shouldn't upset him, since he was a married man, but did anyway.

"No," he replied. "Um. . .I rescued this treasure from two pirates of the prairie."

"Thank goodness," Victoria said in a relieved tone. She gazed up at him with a smile. "That you were there, I mean."

"Until I find her parents, do you mind?" he inquired, already knowing the answer. She eagerly took the basket from him.

"Oh, of course not." Victoria stroked the infant's chin. "Oh, are you hungry, little one?" She glanced up at the man in black standing before her.

The sight of her holding the baby was like a punch that knocked his breath away. She looked like a beautiful Madonna, cooing and fussing over the child. It was a enthralling picture

He realized at that moment he had irrevocably lost his heart to her.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The third of my chapters named for a television series. Lost was the first series that captured my attention so completely since my total enchantment and obsession with the New World version of Zorro. And it is a chapter dealing with things lost. I deliberately used the word ‘lost' several times in this chapter as well.


	19. Compare & Contrast

[parts of the following scene taken from "Zorro's Other Woman" written by Greg O'Neill]

Victoria was oblivious to the flood of emotion that the masked man in front of her was undergoing, partly because the little niña in her arms started whimpering. She did, however, look up at him accusingly.

"You did feed her, of course?"asked Victoria

Zorro was brought up short by the question. He had no idea if Felipe had fed the infant or not. He crossed his arms over his chest and began pacing as a way to relieve the tension his whole body was experiencing. "Is Zorro not a man of action?" he responded defensively. "She was fed. Possibly."

The sound of approaching footsteps caused him to dart to the wall near the fireplace. A second later, Sergeant Mendoza burst through the curtains draping the entrance to the tavern's kitchen.

Victoria chased the stout soldier from the room but not before he discovered the baby in her possession. Zorro knew eventually the sergeant would reveal that bit of information to the alcalde. Then what would happen would be anyone's guess.

He watched with what he hoped was an impassive expression as the lovely innkeeper prepared something for the infant to eat. Zorro grinned as once again he was captivating by how instinctively Victoria cared for the baby, a child that wasn't even hers.

"Ah, you are a born guardian, Señorita," he declared sincerely.

Victoria smiled at him. " _We_ are born guardians, Señor," she announced.

Zorro crossed his arms over his chest and began pacing once again. "Yes. Well. . ." he agreed reluctantly, not wanting her to get her hopes up, but fearing it was already too late. "It is my birthright to watch over and protect our people, with an eyes toward the future, yes," he rambled on, trying to distract her.

But she refused to be dissuaded. "And what could be more important for the future than having children?" she demanded. She set down the spoon she had been feeding the niña with and held out the baby to him.

He backed up several steps as Victoria moved even closer as he did not trust himself to be near her at that moment. His resolve was crumbling fast and he wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and kiss her. 

"Please, don't be afraid to come closer," she said, then laughed. "She's not a coyote."

Zorro gestured toward his face as he thought of the perfect excuse for staying away, from both of them. "It's the mask, Señorita. It frightens her."

"Ah, of course." Victoria smiled beguilingly. "Well then by all means, remove it."

Laughing nervously, Zorro had to turn away. As much as he wanted to, he knew he could never unmask himself in front of her. Still he had to chuckle as he heard her speak to the little girl. 

"You would like that too, little one," the innkeeper said in a sing-song voice. Then she added thoughtfully, "I must give her a name."

"Natasha Petrova."

The sound of the alcalde's voice startled all three of them. The baby started howling as Luis Ramone parted the curtains and stepped into the kitchen, followed by two armed lancers. He pointed his finger at Victoria. 

"And you. . ." he began to say before turning and seeing Zorro standing in front of the fireplace. Zorro was surprised the man could even speak, as stunned as he was.. ". . .are under arrest for kidnapping." 

Victoria glanced worriedly from the alcalde over to Zorro, whose outward calmness belied his roiling emotions.

"You can't be serious," he said to Ramone How the commandante could even suspect Victoria of abducting the child? It was ludicrous.

"There's hardly a moment when I'm not," retorted the alcalde. 

Zorro knew deep down what he did next was hardly chivalrous but it could not be helped. Once again, property was destroyed and people were injured, albeit not seriously. And he hated himself for leaving Victoria in the clutches of a madman.

But she had sent him a silent message she would be all right and he needed to save himself. It was one of the hardest things he ever had to do, exiting the tavern while Ramone held a knife to Victoria's throat. But he did it.

Z Z Z

Zorro wasn't sure why he was so surprised that the alcalde would stoop so low as to extort money from the parents of a kidnapped infant, but he was. It seemed the man's greed knew no bounds.

His heart had bled though, when Victoria had to return the niña to its rightful mother and father. The look of longing on her face nearly matched his own feelings. He hadn't known he had wanted children until after Zafira had lost their baby. His insides knotted at the thought of Victoria having babies with another man while he and his wife would in all probability never would even make love again, let alone have children.

It was a pensive Diego who emerged from the library fireplace in the wee hours of the morning. The hacienda was quiet as everyone was asleep. Even Felipe, which was odd as he usually stayed up until Zorro returned, eager to hear of the latest adventure.

Diego chuckled softly. The poor lad was probably exhausted from his babysitting duties earlier that evening. Yawning, he made his way to his own bedroom and its empty bed.

Z Z Z

One already sweltering hot morning several months later, the sounds of shouting awoke Diego from his slumbers. He jumped out from under his bedcovers and grabbed the pair of trousers that the night before he had discarded on the back of a chair. He reached into the armoire and pulled out a clean white linen shirt. Running down the hallway to the foyer, he put on the shirt and was buttoning it with one hand as he opened the front door with the other.

"Don Diego!" cried a frantic Victoria. "Your father. . . He's been shot!"

Diego stood on the front steps in shock as he watched her climb down out of her wagon and run to the back of its bed. That was when he noticed the soles of his father's boots sticking out from the wagon.

"Diego!" Victoria implored. "Please, he's badly hurt!"

He snapped into action then. Noticing some of the vaqueros standing around, he began pointing at them. "Miguel, go fetch the doctor," he ordered. "Carlos, Tadeo, help me carry him into the house."

The two hands ran over to the wagon as the other hurried over to the stables. Diego hopped up into the wagon bed. The elder de la Vega was on his back, moaning softly as blood seeped through a makeshift dressing on his left shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, Diego slid his arms under his father's back and lifted him up gently. "Get his legs," he instructed the two vaqueros waiting at the back of the wagon.

" _Si, Patrón_ ," they said as they each grasped one of the old don's legs.

Victoria continued to hover nervously as the three men carried Don Alejandro into the hacienda. "How did this happen?" Diego asked her once they were inside. "Why did he get shot?"

"It was banditos, robbing the military payroll," she replied. "Oh, _Dios_ ," she said then pressed her hand to her mouth for a moment. "They killed two soldiers but I couldn't. . . I couldn't. . ."

"It's all right," Diego assured her. They had arrived in the elder de la Vega's bedroom and quickly lowered him down upon the bed. "Help me get these clothes off of him," he said to Victoria. 

He looked over at the two ranch hands who were staring sadly at the old don. "Carlos, Tadeo, there are two soldiers. . ." Diego glanced over at the beautiful innkeeper as she was carefully easing off Don Alejandro's jacket. 

"About a mile north of here," she said. She lifted her eyes to his. "Diego, they're dead. There's nothing we. . ."

"They deserve a proper burial," said Diego. He waved his hand at the vaqueros. "Go, _por favor_."

The men bowed and then left the room. Diego turned back to his father and assisted Victoria in removing his dusty and blood stained garments. It wasn't until they had dressed the elder de la Vega in a clean night shirt that Diego noticed the blood on Victoria's white blouse.

"Are you all right, Señorita?" he asked worriedly. He pointed at the crimson smears and dirt smudges on her blouse and skirt. He also saw the ragged hem of her petticoat peeking from the bottom of her skirt, guessing she must have torn off strips of it to make a bandage for his father's wound.

Victoria looked down and paled slightly. "It must have happened when I lifted your father into the back of my wagon," she stated. "I'm fine, Don Diego."

"You lifted my father?" he inquired incredulously. "By yourself?"

" _Si_ , Diego," she answered wearily. "There was no one else. I had to do it. I couldn't just leave him there."

Diego just stood and stared at her. Just when he thought he couldn't love her more than he already did, his feelings for her grew even deeper. Before he could stop himself, he took a step toward her, intending to take her into his arms.

A wild-eyed Felipe bound into the room then, followed by Maria, the housekeeper. Later, Diego was grateful for the interruption, but at that moment, he was immensely irritated by their arrival. "Is the doctor here yet?" he asked Maria.

She shook her head while casting her eyes upon her unconscious employer. Diego looked from the housekeeper to Victoria and saw the tears slipping quietly down her lovely face.

"Maria, take Señorita Escalante to one of the guest rooms, _por favor_ ," he requested of the older woman. "Make sure she has hot water, whatever she needs. And send somebody to the tavern to get her a change of clothing."

" _Si, Patrón_ ," said the housekeeper who then turned to leave but not before Diego noticed the moisture gathering in the usually stoic woman's eyes.

Maria was leading Victoria from the bedroom when Zafira swept through the door. The two women had to move aside to keep from being bowled over by the wailing woman.

"Oh, Father! Oh, Father!" bawled Zafira, flinging herself next to Don Alejandro's bed. She laid her head on the mattress and began weeping loudly. Diego noted that his father grew agitated even though he remained unconscious.

He bent down and placed his hands on his wife's shoulders which shook violently as she cried. She whipped her head up and glared at Diego.

"Don't touch me!" she snarled. "Your father is dying and all you can think about is groping me! What kind of man. . ."

"Get out," said Diego coolly even though inside he was raging. "Get out until you can comport yourself in a rational and civilized fashion."

Zafira stared angrily at him, her red face streaked with tears, then turn her attention back to the old don lying on the bed and resumed her shrill sobbing. "Oh, Father, please don't die!" she shrieked.

Sighing heavily, Diego grabbed her arms and yanked her to her feet, then pushed her from the room before she had a chance to protest. He firmly shut the door in her astonished face and turned the key in the lock.

Diego went back to his father's bedside and fell down to his knees, the events of the morning finally catching up with him as he stared at his deathly pale parent. He glanced up sharply when Felipe placed a hand on his shoulder. He had forgotten the lad was still in the room. The expression of the boy's face was one of worry and shock which no doubt mirrored his own.

"He'll be all right, Felipe," he tried to reassure the youth, even though he didn't know if it was the truth or not. All he knew was that Don Alejandro de la Vega couldn't die. Not now. Not yet.

A knock on the door a little while later stirred the two of them from their bedside vigil. Diego opened the door and admitted Doctor Hernandez inside the room, followed by Victoria who had washed up and changed into a fresh blouse and skirt. The physician was quickly filled in on the events that led to the elder de la Vega being shot and what Victoria had done afterward.

Diego gazed at her in admiration as she spoke to the doctor, realizing that her heroic actions had at least bought his father a little more time on this earth. He once again had to restrain himself from embracing her as Hernandez chased the three of them from the room so he could attended to the patient.

[parts of the following scene taken from "Honor Thy Father" written by Adam Tyler]

They all paced silently outside the bedroom. Felipe cast occasional questioning glances at Diego then at Victoria, which Diego ignored. What seemed like an eternity later, the doctor carried his bag to the doorway.

"I've removed the bullet." he announced then shook his head. "But there's much infection."

"What are his chances of coming out of this coma?" queried Diego uneasily.

"He may never come out of it," stated Doctor Hernandez.

"You are saying he could die?" Diego looked over at Felipe and Victoria and saw they were as disturbed as he was about the physician's verdict.

"I'm sorry. I've done all I can," declared the doctor.

"Why would Don Alejandro risk his life for the alcalde's payroll?" Victoria asked as she stared Hernandez. The physician looked over at Diego. 

"He wasn't helping the alcalde," replied Diego as he gazed down upon his ashen faced father lying on the bed, "he was helping a man in trouble."

Victoria walked up to Diego. "I will stay with him," she offered.

"No," he said determinedly then looked at her gratefully and without thinking, put his hand on her arm. His fingers tingled where they made contact with her warm, soft skin. Tamping down his desire for her, he added, "Thank you. He's my father."

He went over to the bed, pulled up a chair and sat down . Felipe came up and placed his hand on Diego's shoulder once again. Diego glanced up at him and realized the two of them were alone in the room again. Felipe made a ‘Z' in the air with his right index finger.

Diego turned away and stared at his father. "No, Felipe," he replied. "Zorro's place is with his father."

Felipe nodded sadly then gave Diego's shoulder a little squeeze before leaving the bedroom.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - I think this chapter highlights the differences between Victoria and Zafira and how Diego began to see them as complete opposites. He compared them and they contrasted greatly in his opinion (with Victoria gaining the more favorable view, of course). 
> 
> This is one of my favorite chapters of this story. Someone mentioned that they liked my take on events that occurred off script during the series. I have always wondered how Don Alejandro made it back to the hacienda in the episode "Honor thy Father" (whose title is straight out of the Ten Commandments). Victoria was the only one there as the soldiers had been shot and were either dead or dying. So unless someone else happened along, she had to do it herself.


	20. Revelations

Zafira did not reappear at Don Alejandro's bedside the rest of the day. Victoria, however, made several visits, and even the Alcalde had stopped by the hacienda to see how the elder de la Vega was doing. Diego was concerned though, by Ramón's insistence Zorro had somehow played a part in the old don's shooting and the theft of the payroll. But he didn't have time to dwell on it.

[most of the following scene taken from "Honor Thy Father" written by Adam Tyler]

Much later that evening as Diego sat by his father's bed, Don Alejandro began to stir restlessly and murmuring words that Diego couldn't quite catch. 

"The post. . ." the elder de la Vega said then drew a deep breath. "The cat. . .cattle."

Diego stared worriedly at the old don, wondering what was going through his unconscious mind.

Don Alejandro began grow agitated, moving his head from side to side and stirring his legs. "Open the. . . Open the gate."

"The cattle in the north section are fine, Father," stated Diego, grasping his father's closest hand. "They should bring a good price at market."

Victoria walked into the bedroom as he spoke, carrying a napkin covered tray. She set it down on the bureau then turned to look at Diego.

"Don Diego, you know he can't hear you," she said in slightly scolding voice. "He's delirious with fever."

"There's a chance that he might," declared Diego, hoping deep down he was right.

Shaking her head slightly, Victoria indicated the tray on the bureau. "Would you eat something?" she asked.

Diego didn't even look up. Food was the last thing on his mind at the moment. And now that it had been mentioned, his stomach began to roil. "No," he replied as he watched as his father stirred restlessly under the thin cotton sheet.

He felt a jolt of desire as Victoria rested her hand on his shoulder. "You need some sleep. It's important that you stay strong," she suggested.

"Sleep I can have anytime," said Diego, trying to ignore the effect she had on him. "I don't know how long I'll have him."

"He has a good son in you, Don Diego," she stated gently.

He brought his head around to stare up at her then got to his feet. The urge to hold her in his arms and kiss her was almost overwhelming. He knew now more than ever that he should have married her instead of Zafira. But it was too late, he had made his own cold and lonely marriage bed. Plus he knew that Victoria would not welcome his embraces not only because he was a married man but because she was in love with Zorro.

"You're a good friend," he finally said, still gazing into her liquid brown eyes. "Thank you for staying to help."

Victoria smiled up at him, her expression, however, a little uncomfortable, before leaving the bedroom. Diego watched her go, then glanced down at the now peacefully sleeping man on the bed.

"A good son. A good son would not keep things from his father," he acknowledged. He walked down to the end of the bed. "There would be nothing between them." Then he looked over at his father. "I've kept something from you. I am not the man you think I am. I have a secret life. The time has come to share it with you."

Coming back up to the head of the bed, Diego then sat down in the chair beside Don Alejandro. He took a deep breath before continuing with his revelation.

"Father, I am Zorro," he declared undeniably. "Perhaps it was wrong to keep this from you. But as Zorro, I have not always obeyed the written law. That is why I could never tell you. It would endanger you as well. I know that what I have done is right. Deeds you would have been proud of. Things you might have done yourself when you were younger."

He swallowed hard as the sorrow of possibly losing his father hit him hard. "What is important now it that you stay with me," he implored. "As Don Diego, I have not always made you proud. I am Zorro. But I still need you. I still need a father."

Diego reached for the old don's hand and bowed his head over their clasped hands. "And there is something else, Father," he stated. "My marriage, Zafira. . ." He shook his head. "I don't love her, I don't think I really ever did. And I'm quite sure that she despises me. I should have waited to marry until I came back to California. I should have waited until I saw. . ."

He sighed heavily as he realized he was rambling. "Father, I am in love with another woman, a woman who is not my wife." He rose up out of the chair and walked to the foot of the be again before turning then gazing down on the elder de la Vega. "Father, I love Victoria Escalante. I fell in love with her as soon as I returned from Spain. I should have never married Zafira. It was a huge mistake."

Putting his hands on the footboard, Diego braced himself over the end of the bed. "I'm sorry, Father, but I didn't want you to know, I didn't want you to be hurt. But now. . ."

Diego moved back over to the chair and sat down again. He held his face in his hands as he resumed his vigil over his gravely ill father.

Z Z Z

Don Alejandro was on his feet less than two weeks later, thanks to the retrieval of the stolen payroll and other contents of the saddlebags by the masked outlaw Zorro. The maguey sap was one of those other items and its healing properties had worked their magic on the elder de la Vega.

It was an enormous relief to Diego that his father only vaguely remembered the confession he had poured out when he had thought the older man was dying. The old don thought it had all been a dream. Diego realized he couldn't risk his father knowing the truth about Zorro. And he knew it would break Don Alejandro's heart if he knew that his son and the daughter-in-law he was so proud of didn't love each other. 

Zafira had stayed in her bedroom, the door firmly locked until the day Don Alejandro had been allowed out of bed. Then she had become a model of solicitude.

"Another pillow, Father?" she asked as she fussed around the elder de la Vega as he sat on the settee in the library. She plumped up a pillow and forced it behind the old don's back before he could even answer.

"I'm fine, dear," he declared. He looked around the room. "Oh, it's wonderful to get out of that bedroom. I thought I would have to spend the rest of my days in there."

Diego had to look away. That was what he had thought as well, that his father was going to die, in the same room in which his mother had passed away. He had to swallow back his sorrow.

"How about something to drink, Father?" inquired Zafira in a voice full of anxious concern. "I believe Maria just made some fresh lemonade."

"That sounds lovely, my dear," the old don replied before closing his eyes.

"I'll go fetch it," Zafira offered. She left the library and headed toward the kitchen. Diego stared balefully at her receding back.

Don Alejandro glanced up at his son then shook his head. "I'm sure she means well, son," he said with a chuckle. "But I must admit, she's a bit wearing."

"Indeed," Diego responded with tight lips. He didn't want his father to know how bad things were between him and Zafira. Like the fact they could barely stand be in the same room together. Or how he literally hadn't touched her in over six months. 

He sighed as he recalled his parents' marriage, how close the two of them had been. When his mother had been alive, a day hadn't gone by without him witnessing the two of them kissing, or touching each other, or merely just gazing at each other with love filled eyes.

Diego had wanted the same kind of marriage for himself. And he had thought he had found the woman to share it with him in Zafira. He shook his head. The revelation she was the wrong wife for him had been swift and powerful the moment he had seen Victoria Escalante again.

"Here you go, Father," called out Zafira, her overly concerned voice breaking through Diego's musings. She carried a tray holding a tall glass of lemonade and a small plate of biscuits. "I thought you might like a little snack." she explained.

" _Gracias_ , my dear," the elder de la Vega replied graciously. He took one of the biscuits and bit into it before picking up the glass then taking a sip from it. He then indicated the plate to Diego and raised his eyebrows in a silent offer.

"No, thank you," said Diego politely. "I've seemed to lost my appetite. _Con permiso_."

He bowed to the old don then to Zafira who had settled down on the settee next to his father. She tossed him an acerbic glance before he turned and left the room.

Z Z Z

It was about a month later when Diego was trying to make his way through the plaza on his horse, Esperanza. A large crowd had gathered at the entrance of the tavern, jostling each other to see what was going on inside. Diego was dismounting his horse as a man and woman were shoved out the front doors of the establishment.

_What in the world?_ Diego dodged his way through the throng of people and made it to the edge of the porch before the amassed assembly prevented him from going any farther.

He could hear, however, Victoria and the alcalde shouting at someone, along with a man whose voice Diego did not recognize. "What's going on?" he asked an older man who was standing next to him. "Who's in there?"

"Colonel Palomarez," the man responded excitedly. 

"Palomarez," repeated Diego. He brought up his hand to rub his chin. "Not the Colonel Palomarez from the Yucatan?"

"That's him, Don Diego," said the man. "The Butcher of the Yucatan."

"What's he doing in Los Angeles?"

The man shrugged his shoulders. "I think he's after Zorro."

"Zorro?"

" _Si_ ," replied the man. 

Diego turned and worked his way back to the edge of the crowd to where his horse stood nervously. So the famous Colonel Palomarez had come to California to capture Zorro. He threw a glance over his shoulder at the tavern's porch as another man was pushed out of the front doors. Gathering up Esperanza's reins, he led her around to the back of the tavern.

[most of the following scene taken from "A Deal With the Devil" written by Suzanne Herrera]

He walked through the rear door just in time to observe Sergeant Mendoza back his generous behind into a knife that had been left near the edge of a table. The stout soldier cried out in pain.

. Be careful, Sergeant," Diego advised unnecessarily. "That's sharp."

Mendoza turned and stared at him. "What are you doing here, Don Diego?"

"Well, I saw the glorious Colonel and his men approaching and I decided that discretion might be the better part of valor," replied Diego as Victoria strode into the kitchen. "It certainly would have been for the alcalde."

"And what is the Alcalde going to do about Palomarez?" the innkeeper inquired as she glanced over at Diego who shrugged.

"What can he do?" asked the sergeant. "Palomarez is a colonel under orders from the king."

Victoria spun around and glared at Mendoza. "So we're just going to let a madman take control of the pueblo?" she demanded angrily.

"Believe me, the alcalde would like nothing better than to have Palomarez gone," said Mendoza nervously. "But until Zorro's capture, what can he do?"

Diego shook his head and let out a deep sigh. Victoria turned her gaze to him again. " Don Diego, this Palomarez says he's going to hang one person everyday until Zorro surrenders himself." She walked up to him and he could see the trepidation in her beautiful brown eyes. "He's going to pull the first name out of a hat tonight at midnight. We have find some way to stop him."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Until we know what Zorro will do, there's nothing any of us can do," he said vaguely. 

His heart clenched as he saw the look of disgust cross the innkeeper's face. He hated this part of his charade where he had to appear weak and ineffective. Diego quickly departed after saying his goodbyes to Victoria and Mendoza.

On the way home, it hit him it could someone very near and dear to him whose name was pulled from Palomarez's hat. Diego's countenance grew steely at the thought of his father, Felipe, or Victoria dying because of his masquerade. He pledged then and there he would sacrifice himself to save them.

Z Z Z

[most of the following scene taken from "A Deal With the Devil" written by Suzanne Herrera]

That evening, a few minutes before midnight, a large crowd had assembled inside the tavern, with many more waiting outside. Diego had had a tough time convincing both his father and Felipe to stay home. He wanted them to spend as little time as possible in the cuartel jail if one of theirs was the name that was drawn.

He glanced at the woman standing next to him. He didn't want her to spend time in the jail either but since it was her tavern where the lottery was being held, he could hardly stop her from being there. Diego closed his eyes and said a silent prayer that no one he cared for would be the name that was chosen that night.

Ramón and Mendoza stood on either side of Palomarez. "Colonel, I beg you to reconsider," pleaded an unusually passive alcalde.

The colonel turned to sneer at him. "Sniveling will not bring me Zorro."

"But summary executions?" queried Ramón. "Not even I would conceive of such a thing."

"It is brilliant in its simplicity," stated Palomarez with a smirk. He turned to address the gathering of people. "I am here to draw the name of the individual who will face the gallows at sunrise," he announced.

"This is not justice," said Victoria indignantly. "This is murder."

"Bring Zorro to me before dawn," drawled the colonel, looking down his nose at her, "and only he will face the hangman's noose."

Diego decided to divert the madman's attention away from the beautiful innkeeper. "Señor. . ."

"Be careful, Don Diego," warned Mendoza sotto voce.

"Do you have particular knowledge of Zorro, Señor?" Palomarez demanded, fixing his eyes on Diego.

Zorro is a very difficult man to know," said Diego casually. "We have always been protected by his secret identity. And it has kept us safe from the excesses of the military."

The alcalde tossed Diego a glance that contained both guilt and anger.

"It's true," Victoria chimed in. "We do not know who he is or where he is. So your threats of violence will not help you find him."

"Well, I certainly think it's worth a try," the colonel drawled. He reached with both of his hands into his hat and began stirring up the little pieces of paper that were inside it. "The first person to die under the curse of your Zorro is. . ." He pulled out a piece of paper and read the name written upon it.

"Zafira de la Vega."

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - Revelation is, of course, a book of the New Testament. But the chapter is named for the revelations Diego made to his father and for the surprising revelation at the end of this chapter.


	21. Confrontation

Diego's mouth dropped open in astonishment. _Zafira_. He didn't hear the murmurs of the crowd inside the tavern. He didn't even feel the hand Victoria placed on his arm as she looked up at him with an expression of concern.

_Dios mio_. He hadn't even thought for one moment she could be the one selected from the hat. That she could be the one sacrificed by Palomarez in his insane attempt to capture Zorro. All his worries had been focused on his father. . .Felipe. . .Victoria. He hadn't even spared a second of consideration for his wife. _His own wife_. . .

He became vaguely aware of someone shaking him. He lowered his eyes to see it was Victoria.

"Don Diego. . . Diego," she said as she shook his arm. "Where is Doña Zafira? Palomarez. . ."

"She's at the hacienda," he mumbled almost incoherently. He turned one way then the other. "I have to go."

Victoria let go of his arm. "Of course," she agreed. She looked up at him sadly. "I'm sorry, Don Diego. I don't think Zorro will let your wife hang in his place. He's not that kind of man."

"You're right," he ground out. "He's not."

He walked away from her then, pushing his way through the throng of people, most of whom offered him sympathy either with words or by patting his shoulders. He stepped out onto the tavern's porch and took a deep breath of the cool night air.

"Don Diego de la Vega?"

He spun around to see Colonel Palomarez standing behind him, a smirk on his arrogant face. " _Si_ ," he replied irritably.

"A warning, Señor," the colonel said. "If we arrive at your hacienda and your wife is not there, you will take her place. _Comprende?_ "

The idea of secreting Zafira away somewhere where this murderous bastard couldn't find her hadn't even crossed his mind. Diego narrowed his eyes. "The de la Vegas are honorable people, Colonel." He turned back around, intending on finding his horse and riding home.

"I don't doubt that," said Palomarez in a tone that suggested otherwise. "We'll be right behind you."

Diego looked straight ahead into the plaza. "We'll be expecting you." He then walked off the porch and over to the railing where he had left his mare, Esperanza.

Z Z Z

Diego strode into the hacienda, shutting the door harder than he meant to. He went to walk past the library but paused in his tracks as he saw that his father and Felipe were stirring as they lounged in chairs on opposite sides of the chessboard.

"Son, what happened?" inquired Don Alejandro who then smothered a yawn. "Whose name did. . .?" He stopped when he took a good look at his son's face. "Diego, who was. . .?"

"Zafira," stated Diego forcefully. "They are on their way here now to take her to the cuartel."

The elder de la Vega shook his head as he rose to his feet. "We have to hide her. We'll tell them she's out of town. _Si_ , out of town visiting relatives. They'll have to pick someone else."

It was Diego's turn to shake his head. "No," he said wearily. "They already know she's here." He didn't elaborate on Palomarez's threat to hang him in her place. An plan was forming in his mind, and part of it hinged on the fact he not be imprisoned. At least not yet. "I'd better go wake her so she can be dressed when the colonel and his men arrive."

Diego started to walk away but a slight gesture from Felipe stilled him. He tilted his head toward the fireplace and the youth nodded with understanding. Diego turned around to go to his wife's bedroom.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked upon her door. Then without waiting for an answer, he opened it and stepped inside. Zafira was curled up on her left side, still fast asleep.

"Zafira, wake up," he said, raising his voice. "You have to get up. Now."

She burrowed even deeper under her bedcovers. Diego walked over to the bed and whipped off the embroidered spread, revealing her night-gown clad body, which, he realized, no longer stirred any feelings of desire in him. Zafira's eyes popped open then and she took a few moments to take in her surroundings.

Sitting up, she crossed her arms over her bosom and glared at her husband. "Get out of here," she snarled. "I don't want to. . ."

"I'm not here for that," replied Diego, trying to keep the disgust from his tone but not quite succeeding. "Your name was drawn in the lottery. You are going to hang at sunrise unless Zorro turns himself in before then."

" _Dios mio_ ," whispered Zafira. "Are. . . Are you sure?"

"I was there," stated Diego. "They're coming to take you to the cuartel as we speak. I thought you might want to get dressed first."

" _Si, si_ , of course," she agreed. As if in a daze, she rose from the bed and went over to the armoire. Zafira put her hand on its door knob then turned to face Diego. "You are hardly the grieving husband," she sneered at him. "You're probably hoping Zorro doesn't show up, aren't. . ."

In three strides, Diego was across the room. He grabbed Zafira's left arm and made her face him. "I've never wished you dead, Zafira," he said honestly, looking into her blue eyes. "Don't ever think that. Whatever else has happened between us, I've never wished that."

"Let go," she whimpered. "You're hurting me." Diego then realized he was squeezing her upper arm very tightly. He immediately relaxed his hand and took a step backward.

"I'll let you get ready," he said in a chastised tone. He turned and stalked out of her room.

Less than ten minutes later, Colonel Palomarez and his men arrived at the hacienda. For once, Zafira had dressed quickly and was awaiting their arrival. 

"This is an outrage!" Don Alejandro shouted at Palomarez.

"No, the outrage is people like you who have aided and abetted this criminal for so long," declared the colonel. "You only have yourself to blame, Señor."

The elder de la Vega turned away from the soldier and put his hand on Zafira's shoulder. "Don't worry, _hija_ ," he said reassuringly in a low voice. "We won't let you hang."

Zafira wept silently until two of the soldiers started to lead her out of the house. Then she began to wail.

"Do something, Father!" she cried. "Don't let them take me!"

Don Alejandro started to go after her but Diego blocked him with his arm. The old don turned an angry face to his son. "Get out of the way, Diego," he warned as Zafira's pleas for help could be heard from outside.

"He just hang you as well if you try to stop them," Diego advised. The elder de la Vega shook his head.

" _Maldita sea_ ," he growled. "We just can't sit back and let her die. Don't you even care?"

"I care," replied Diego through clenched teeth. "I care enough to not want to see you die as well."

"Well, you'd better hope and pray that Zorro is more of a gentleman than you are," Don Alejandro shot back. "I'm going into town. Are you coming?"

Diego shook his head. "No," he said firmly. "What would be the point? Palomarez isn't going to release Zafira, at least not until he has Zorro in his clutches. Then I imagine the colonel will let her come home. We need to be here when that happens." He took a deep breath. "Because you're right, a gentleman like Zorro would never let an innocent woman hang in his place."

"Very well," conceded the old don. Shaking his head exasperatedly, he walked toward his bed chamber. 

As soon as his door closed and the servants had gone back to their own beds, Diego sprinted toward the fireplace in the library. Punching the mantle with more force than usual, he then ducked down and passed through the opening panel then into the cave, where Felipe had Toronado saddled and ready.

Z Z Z

Zorro climbed his whip up the side of the tavern until he reached a window, which he then cautiously opened. He then swung his leg up over its sill and landed soundlessly on the room's floor.

For the second time that night, he gazed down upon a sleeping woman. Only this time the woman in question wasn't his wife, but Victoria. And he had no plans to wake her. He just wanted to see her, for what could be the last time, if his plan went awry.

He knelt beside her bed and watched her breathe for a few moments before bestowing a light kiss on her forehead. "I love you," he said, uttering the words he could never say to her when she was awake. He got back up on his feet and with a swirl of his cape, he left her bedroom, quietly closing the door as he left to go downstairs and make his date with destiny.

[almost all of the following scene was taken from "A Deal With the Devil" written by Suzanne Herrera]

The howling of a wolf broke the still of the night as Zorro advanced toward Palomarez as the military man sat at one of the tables in the main room of the tavern, writing in a journal of some sort. Zorro silently unsheathed his saber and placed its blade against the colonel's chest.

"Zorro," whispered Palomarez excitedly as he glanced in the man in black's direction.

The masked man put his finger up against his own lips. "Shh."

Evidently the colonel didn't understand the universal signal for quiet. "Guards!" he called out in a slightly strangled voice.

"Please, people are trying to sleep," cautioned. Zorro as he pressed his sword a little harder against Palomarez's throat. "Keep your voice down or your sleep could be a longer than you'd like."

"In the event of my death," countered Palomarez, "I have given orders for my men to execute two people each day until your capture."

"I'm not here to take your life, Señor," Zorro advised, taking the man seriously. There was no doubt in his mind the maniac had issued such a merciless edict.

Palomarez sneered contemptuously. "Prove it."

"Under certain conditions, I'm prepared to surrender," Zorro declared before he removed his sword from the colonel's neck then put it back in its scabbard.

Rising to his feet, Palomarez turned to face the masked man, holding a shot of whiskey in his hand. "What are the conditions for your surrender?"

Zorro crossed his arms over his broad chest. "That you and I meet on the field of honor, man to man," he said challengingly.

"I'm a master swordsman,"stated the colonel boastfully. "You wouldn't dare challenge me."

"I would indeed, Señor," replied. Zorro.

"I promise you an agonizing death,"Palomarez vowed, his mouth twisting up into a malicious smile.

"Justice for the people is not without its price," the man in black acknowledged.

The imperturbable colonel took a couple of steps toward Zorro. He drawled, "Shall we say the plaza, at sunrise?"

" _Si_ ," agreed Zorro with a nod. "If I win, you and your men must leave Los Angeles."

"And if you lose, then you die," said Palomarez smugly.

"In either case, innocent people will be kept from the gallows," said the masked man.

Palomarez inclined his head, "You are indeed a man of honor."

" _Gracias_ , Señor," Zorro replied, tipping his own head.

"And a fool," the colonel stated before raising his voice. "Guards! Guards!"

Soldiers quickly fill the room, all armed with muskets aimed at Zorro. He smiled wryly, realizing the ignoble madman had no intention of honoring their arrangement. "Put him behind bars. He hangs at sunrise," ordered Palomarez.

Two of his men grabbed man in black's arms and led him out of the tavern. Zorro looked over his shoulder as the colonel mockingly lifted his glass then smirked.

Z Z Z

Zorro was relieved to see Zafira was asleep when he was shoved into the cell adjoining hers. But unfortunately one of the soldiers slammed shut his cell door, causing it to clang loudly. Zafira awoke with a start, sitting up in her cot.

"What's going on?" she queried in alarm. "Who's there?"

"Don't be afraid, Señora," said Zorro. "You'll soon be freed."

Zafira got to her feet and walked up to the iron bars separating their cells. "So you are the infamous Zorro," she said disdainfully. "The Fox."

"At your service, Señora," he said with a slightly mocking bow.

"They're going to hang you," she stated unnecessarily.

Zorro shrugged his shoulders. "We'll see."

She stared up at him, making him feel as though she was stripping his mask away. It was quite unnerving. He prayed to God that she would not recognize him.

"I don't agree with your actions," she said after a while. "I think you are wasting your time. You should be going after. . ."

"Enough," he interrupted. "I came here to spare your life, not to be lectured about my errant ways." He grinned at her insolently as he took off his belt and went over to his cell door. It took him several attempts but he finally snagged his saber off the bench where the soldiers had unwisely left it. 

"You're a fool," she replied haughtily as he pulled the blade through the bars. "Just like my husband."

Zorro became serious then. "Don Diego de la Vega is a fine, upstanding caballero. I've never found him to be a fool." He re-fastened his belt before sheathing his saber back into its scabbard.

"That's because you don't know him," said Zafira with a tight laugh. "He is so naive and gullible. He and his father think they can make a difference in this dusty little pueblo. Just like you."

[parts of the following scene taken from "A Deal With the Devil" written by Suzanne Herrera]

The man in black never got a chance to reply as just at the moment Palomarez, Ramone, and Mendoza entered the jail.

"So you are finally here." gloated the alcalde, almost beside himself with glee.

Zorro smiled at the commandante's enthusiasm. "I offered the colonel a fair fight, but we've seemed to have a slight misunderstanding," he explained.

"There is no misunderstanding," snarled Palomarez. "You hang in three hours."

Ramone grinned evilly. "Considering that reality," he said, unable to contain his excitement, "I'm going to unmask you now."

"Wouldn't you rather wait until I was on the gallows?" suggested Zorro. "It would be so much more dramatic." He gestured toward Zafira. "I've fulfilled my part of the bargain. Please let the señora go."

Zafira shook her head. "You are nothing more than a conceited clown," she said to the masked man. She turned to look at the other two men. " _Am_ I free to go? This ruffian has turned himself in. I thought. . ."

" _Si_ , Señora," said Ramone. He reached over and took the ring of keys from their hook then unlocked her cell door. "Sergeant Mendoza will escort you back to your hacienda." The sergeant clicked his heels together as he saluted.

" _Gracias_ ," said Zafira, offering her hand to the alcalde, who gallantly bestowed a kiss upon it. Zorro had to look away in disgust. "It was a pleasure meeting you, Colonel. I just wish the circumstances could have been different."

"You are too kind, Señora," replied Palomarez. "I, too, wish we could have met under more, shall we say, amiable conditions." He then took her hand and kissed it too.

The man in black choked back his nausea as he waited until Mendoza led Zafira away, closing the door to Ramón's office behind them. The alcalde turned his attention back to the masked man. 

"I'm going to unmask you now," he declared confidently, taking a step toward the iron bars.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - There are several confrontations in this chapter: Diego and Palomarez, Diego and Zafira, Don Alejandro and Palomarez, Diego and Don Alejandro, Zorro and Palomarez, and Zorro and Zafira.
> 
> I don't think I could have come up with a better title.


	22. Hands of Fate

[parts of the following scene taken from "A Deal With the Devil" written by Suzanne Herrera] 

"I thought you might be paying me a little visit, Alcalde," drawled Zorro audaciously. "So I took the precaution of asking Toronado to stop by."

Palomarez snatched the keys from Ramone's hand then stepped up to the bars, jamming one of them into the lock. "You are going to hang," he vowed viciously.

"Colonel, we have an appointment with fate, remember," Zorro said just before he whistled loudly. The window bars of his cell were abruptly yanked from the adobe. Hoof beats and a horse's whinny left no doubt as to the cause. The masked man tilted his head gallantly. " _Buenas noches, Señores_."

He then jumped through the gaping hole in the wall and to freedom. Toronado had circled back around and came to a halt when he saw his master approaching. Before swinging up onto the Andalusian's back, Zorro sliced the rope whose one end was attached to the horse's saddle and the other to the iron window grate. 

After making the pretense of riding out of town, Zorro then doubled back to the pueblo. He climbed up to the cuartel roof and walked carefully up to the window that was curiously place near the roof's peak. Zorro quietly eased it open. He looked down upon the alcalde and Palomarez; the former pacing back and forth in his office, the latter leaning against Ramone's desk.

"I had him, I had him," ranted the commandante who then pounded his right fist onto his left hand.

"Yes, you had him," drawled the colonel sarcastically.

The alcalde stopped his frantic movement then headed for the door that led to the cuartel's courtyard.

"Where are you going?" asked Palomarez.

"To have my lancers bring back Mendoza and Señora de la Vega," Ramone explained as he turned to face the other man.

"That won't be necessary," the colonel stated with a shrug. "I think the señora has been through enough for one night. Someone else needs to be selected to take her place at dawn."

"Very well," said the alcalde a bit nervously. "Did you have anyone in mind?"

"The woman who runs the tavern," Palomarez began, "I've heard Zorro is quite fond of her."

High above them, the masked man's heart skipped a beat. _Dios, no_ , he pleaded silently, _not Victoria_. 

Ramone shook his head. "I've tried hanging her before in order to lure out that masked menace. He'll see through that ruse easily."

The colonel lifted his leg and sat on the desk. "Yes, I see." He brought up his hand to stroke his chin. "Zorro will hardly come running to your rescue," he declared, then in a lower voice added, "more's the pity." He thought for a moment then asked, "What about that fat sergeant of yours. He'd do nicely."

The alcalde stared incredulously over at his companion. "Mendoza?" he queried in a strangled voice. "But Colonel. . ."

"As soon as the sergeant returns, he is to be placed in the jail to await his execution," demanded Palomarez. "I trust everything else is in order?"

" _Si_ , Colonel," began Ramone, "but. . ."

"Dismissed," the colonel said coldly. "I'll be at the tavern if you need me."

He turned and walked out of the office, closing the door firmly behind him. From his vantage point, Zorro could see that the alcalde was stunned by Palomarez's command to hang Mendoza. Then he watched as Ramón's mouth grew into a wide grin, no doubt glad that it wasn't his own neck being threatened with the noose. 

Vowing to return at dawn to confront Palomarez and rescue the good sergeant, Zorro rode Toronado out of Los Angeles, turning north toward the de la Vega hacienda.

Diego emerged from his bedroom, dressed in blue trousers and a white shirt he was in the process of buttoning when Zafira and Mendoza arrived at the front door. After the sergeant explained the details of her release, he saluted and left. Zafira immediately went to her room, saying she was exhausted. Diego and Don Alejandro just stared at each before the elder de la Vega headed for his own bedroom. Instead of retiring as well, Diego and Felipe made their way to the library fireplace.

Diego spend the next two hours setting his scheme in motion. With Felipe's help, he made a quiver full of gunpowder tipped arrows. A sleepy but worried Felipe waved goodbye as Zorro rode Toronado from the secret cave.

Streaks of light were just beginning to make their way over the eastern horizon as the masked man used his whip to scale the side of the church. Zorro watched from the church's roof as Victoria kissed the condemned sergeant on both cheeks. In the last few months, she seemed to have gotten over the animosity she had held against the garrison's soldiers and Mendoza in particular. 

He then glared with narrowed eyes as Palomarez handed the alcalde a scroll which Ramone unrolled. Zorro was surprised to hear the commandante's voice crack with emotion as he read from it.

"Under emergency law and authority of the King in Spain, the prisoner is sentenced to death by hanging."

With his bow loaded with one of the gunpowder-tipped arrows, Zorro let it fly as the alcalde uttered the last word of the proclamation. He smiled appreciatively as it exploded on impact and caused the chaos he had expected. The people who had gathered in the plaza began to scream and run around in every direction. The man in black shot off several more arrows, with the same results.

Zorro grinned even broader as he heard the colonel order the soldiers to mount their horses. He waited until Ramone led the lancers out of the plaza before aiming an arrow at the rope around Mendoza's neck. After successfully severing the noose, he swung down from the roof of the church and confronting the mad colonel.

Palomarez was the most competent swordsman the man in black had matched blades with in quite some time. Soon, however, Zorro found the weaknesses in the other man's skill and wasted little time in totally humiliating the celebrated colonel, eventually draping him across the back of a donkey, which he then sent out of town.

Zorro was still grinning as he rode Toronado back to the entrance of the secret cave.

Z Z Z

In the months following Zafira's narrow escape from the gallows, Diego's alter ego managed to stay very busy. Zorro spent his time catching a jewel thief, exposing an imposter posing as the pueblo's new priest, and uncovering a so-called ‘ghost' who was trying to drive Mendoza out of the hacienda he had inherited from a distant relative, which the stout sergeant then decided to donate for use as an orphanage.

The masked man also tried to stay away from the lovely young señorita who ran Los Angeles's only inn but it proved difficult to do. The marriage between Diego and Zafira deteriorated with each passing month. On a typical day, they barely spoke a dozen words to each other. They were like two specters themselves, haunting the same house but whose paths rarely crossed. Diego hadn't slept with her in months, not since before she announced that she had been pregnant.

But it proved almost impossible to keep his distance from Victoria. Diego sat at the desk in the study of the de la Vega hacienda one afternoon, writing a letter to his amigo, Miguel. His mind kept drifting, however, to the last encounter which had happened a month earlier between Victoria and the man in black.

Bounty hunters had descended upon the pueblo, trying to collect the rewards offered for the capture of the local Indians who were being blamed for robbing government gold shipments and murdering the guards traveling with the payloads.

Zorro had climbed into the window of Victoria's bedchamber and thinking, not for the first time since he had lost count of how many times he had entered her room this way, that she should keep it locked. Stealthily, he had stepped over to her bed and gazed down on her sleeping form.

"Victoria," he whispered, touching his black-gloved hand to her shoulder and gently shaking her. Her eyes popped open.

"Zor. . .!"

The same hand lightly covered her mouth as he brought the index finger of his other hand to his lips. "Shh," he cautioned as he removed his hand. "We don't want to alarm your guests."

Victoria sat up and yawned. "Zorro, what are you doing here?" she had asked curiously. She smiled at him, her brown eyes full of love, causing his heart to skip a beat.

"I need you to lure Señor Hawkes from his room so I can search it," he stated as he crossed his arms over his broad chest.

"Oh." Zorro heard the disappointment in her voice. Victoria looked up at him and sighed forlornly. "What do you want me to do?"

"Tell him you heard a noise downstairs and that you want him to investigate," suggested the man in black. 

"Why do you want to look in his room?" she inquired. "Do you think he. . ." She shook her head. "I think it is terrible how he and his friends are terrorizing the pueblo's Indians. I find it hard to believe they are the cold-blooded thieves and murderers everyone believes them to be."

"My sentiments exactly," said Zorro, as he had gazed down in her passionate and beautiful face. "I'll wait upstairs," he added, turning his back as she started to climb out of bed. The glimpse he had caught of her in her thin cotton nightgown stirred his desire. And it didn't help to recall just how long it had been since he had been able to slake his lust

[parts of the following scene taken from "The Unhappy Medium" by Bruce Lansbury]

Diego was replaying the scene over again in his head, when his father wandered into the room. Diego immediately became concerned as he noticed the old don's face. There was confusion there, as well as pain. Diego wondered at its cause.

"Diego," Don Alejandro said. "You fancy yourself a scientist. What do you make of those people who say they can contact those who have passed from this world?"

There was a catch in the older man's voice that caused Diego to pause and carefully weigh his reply. "I think they cannot do what they claim. That once a person has died, we can no longer communicate with them. I know, however, that some people genuinely believe that the departed do talk to us. Why do you ask?"

"There is this woman staying at the tavern," his father replied. He began to pace in front of the desk as Diego stared at him worriedly. "Arturo says that this Mayatana contacted his father. That she told him things that only his father would have known." He stopped pacing for a moment then sighed heavily. "She said she had a message for me from your mother."

Diego glanced up at the elder de la Vega in alarm. "I don't believe it," he stated skeptically.

"I'm not even sure I believe it myself," said Don Alejandro. He resumed his pacing. Diego eyed him uneasily before going back to his letter to Miguel.

"But she called me out of the crowd," said the old don after a few minutes. "She even knew your mother's name."

"So did everyone else in the pueblo," Diego commented drily.

"But I heard from others beside Arturo,"said his father, shaking his head. "Fernando Alvarez talked with his mother and she's been dead for eighteen years. Enrique to his infant son who told him when the books were to arrive he ordered from San Carlos."

Diego didn't look up as he continue writing. "I find it hard to believe that a two-year old would know the timetables of the Republic's postal system," he declared sardonically.

Don Alejandro rested his hip on a corner of the desk. "Maybe it's true that all things are revealed to the dead," he said with more than a touch of hope in his voice. Diego knew how much his father missed Felicidad de la Vega because he shared the same longing for the woman they both loved so deeply.

He set down his quill and looked up at the older man. "But it isn't true that Mother would need this Mayatana woman to do her talking for her," he said then smiled wistfully as he recalled his beautiful mother "She was never at a loss for words, remember?"

His father chuckled fondly. Diego sighed inwardly with relief.

"I think that what Mother would tell us is that you've mourned enough," he stated thoughtfully. "That it's time to go on with our lives." He only wished it could be so easy to move on from the muddle he had made of his own life. The indifferent responsibility he felt now for Zafira was nothing like the love that his mother and father had shared. Nor like the love he felt for Victoria. 

"You may be right, Diego," said Don Alejandro, breaking into his musings. "But I wish she had the chance to tell me herself."

He stood up and walked off in the direction of the kitchen. Diego twirled his quill as he wondered if his father was going to visit this medium plying her trade in Los Angeles, all on the off chance that he would be able to speak to his beloved wife once again. Diego frowned as he set down his quill and stood up, making up his mind to go into town and learn more about ‘mysterious Mayatana' for himself.

Diego nearly made it to the front door when he was intercepted by his own wife, who was pulling on her gloves. They stared at each other as they stood in front of the door.

"Are you going into the pueblo?" he asked politely.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Zafira countered contestably. She straightened her bonnet then thrust her chin at him.

Diego shrugged his broad shoulders and sighed wearily. "I'll go fetch the carriage then," he offered as he grasped the door knob and opened the portal for her. She swept through the doorway then stopped on the porch as Diego walked past her on his way to the stables.

They rode in silence the two miles between the hacienda and Los Angeles. Zafira looked up at him as they passed through the pueblo gate

"You can drop me off at the store," she said imperiously. "I suppose you're going to the tavern," she added somewhat bitterly.

Diego glanced over at her sharply. Just what did she mean by that? It was true he did spend a lot of time at the inn. But just not to be near his lady love; it was also to keep up on the local gossip and to keep an eye on the alcalde and his garrison.

"At least you don't come home smelling of drink," his wife commented. "I used to hate it when Jo. . .my brother would come home drunk."

"Yes, that is a point in my favor,"Diego drawled sarcastically as he brought the team of horses to a halt in front of the store. He climbed down from the carriage then offered his hand to Zafira, assisting her out of the conveyance. "Let me know when you wish to return to the hacienda."

She gave him a cold look then spun around and entered the general store. Diego waited until she was inside the shop before turning and making his way across the plaza to the tavern.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - I always thought this phrase was an ancient proverb or famous quote of some kind, like "leave it in the hands of fate" or something similar. But in researching for this, all I could find were modern references alluding to it.
> 
> I used it as the title for this chapter because mainly because of Zorro's line to Palomarez "Colonel, we have an appointment with fate, remember?", but also because of Diego and his ill-fated marriage to Zafira, plus Zorro and Mendoza both escaping the fate of the hangman's noose.


	23. A Fool and His Money. . .

[parts of the following scene taken from "The Unhappy Medium" by Bruce Lansbury]

Los Angeles's only inn was bustling with activity as Diego walked into the crowded building. His eyes immediately found Victoria, who was behind the bar, resting her face in the palm of her right hand. She didn't look happy and he wondered if the mystical medium upstairs had anything to do with her gloom. He darted a quick glance upward before strolling over to the bar.

"Victoria," he said, capturing her attention. "Why such a long face? The place is nearly bursting at the seams with rich caballeros."

"But they don't eat, they don't drink," she replied glumly." They just sit there, waiting for an audience with that woman." She glared angrily at the balcony. Diego looked up as well. "It's strange that only the rich can speak to the dead, isn't it?" added Victoria thoughtfully.

He tilted his head in agreement. It was amazing to him how many people were willing to part with their hard-earned pesos just on the off chance they would be able to speak with a departed loved one. And it made him ill to think how much his father would pay to be able to talk with his mother again, emotionally as well as financially. Diego glanced upward again and saw Sergeant Mendoza walking proudly across the balcony, carrying his hat, a smug expression on his round face.

Diego turned to look at Victoria. "Why do you suppose the good sergeant is walking like that?" he inquired.

"Maybe because he said ‘ _adios_ ' to all his life's savings," answered the lovely innkeeper cynically.

The soldier wasted little time informing Diego and Victoria the clairvoyant had told him he was a descendant of wealthy landowners from the Guerrero Province. That he had spoke with the father he never knew, a wonderful hero who had fought beside Father Morales during the Battle of Acapulco. Mendoza strutted out of the tavern, puffed up with self-importance.

Diego noticed the incredulity in Victoria's beautiful brown eyes and knew that it reflected his own. Everyone knew the good sergeant had been an orphan since he was a baby. A man walking down the staircase caught Diego's eye then.

"Attention," the man called out after stopping about half way down the stairs. "Your attention, please." He held up a small brown velvet bag. "A special gift from the Lady Mayatana to you, the good people of Los Angeles."

The man finished coming downstairs then opened the bag, pouring out a plethora of brightly colored stones out onto the nearest empty table. The room was filled with ‘Oohs' and ‘Aahs' as people hurried over to look.

"Stones of uncommon value and uncommon power, which for a ridiculously small price, will bring you protection. . ." announced the man, continuing on as Diego glanced over his shoulder at Victoria.

"So," he commented skeptically, "the miraculous Mayatana takes her hundred pesos from the rich and this person. . ."

Victoria cut in, her voice full of distaste, ". . .is Ricardo. All I know is that he has a nasty temper and he travels with her."

Diego nodded before completing his observation, "Further empties their pocket by selling them magic stones." He lifted up his hand as he stepped toward Ricardo and his table covered with what were no doubt just nearly worthless rocks. The con man looked at him warily as he approached.

Spying a bluish green pebble, Diego plucked it off the table and held it up. "Señor. Tell me what stone is this?" he asked with mock innocence.

"Turquoise," Ricardo responded condescendingly. "The Arabs called it ferris; the lackey stone."

It was just as Diego had thought. The man had no true idea what the stones actually were and was just making up his information. Diego decided this fellow needed enlightenment. 

"Ah, you're mistaken," he stated. "This is not turquoise. This is a copper pyrite that's turned green to look like turquoise."

Diego watched as Ricardo's face contorted with anger at being told publicly he was wrong. "You are too sensible a man to call someone you've never met liar, Señor." he said in an barely restrained tone.

"I'm only known for the truth, not for being sensible." remarked Diego flippantly. He lobbed the pyrite back to Ricardo.

"Señor, you should take it," offered the charlatan, holding out the stone to Diego who put out his hand so Ricardo could drop it into his palm. "The turquoise also warns its owner of approaching death," declared the other man, his affable voice belying the threatening undercurrent only Diego detected.

He closed his fist around the contested object and said sarcastically, "Oh, thank you." Diego turned and walked away then but was waylaid by one of his father's old amigos, Don Arturo, who told him of all the things his deceased father had revealed to him through the woman upstairs. Just as the older man was asking him to join him in a drink, Zafira appeared in the tavern's entryway. 

Diego graciously declined Don Arturo's offer and hurried over to where his wife was standing impatiently. He threw a glance in Victoria's direction as he strode past the bar, seeing she still wore the same disheartened expression on her face as when he had first arrived.

A small smile touched his lips as he recognized she was just as suspicious as he was of the psychic. Even though her parents were both gone, she didn't believe this Mayatana would be able to contact them. His countenance sobered, however, as he walked up to Zafira and saw the hostile look in her eye.

"I want to visit the medium," she declared challengingly. "I want to find out if my brother is dead."

"You can't be serious," Diego responded after a few seconds. He took her arm and led her out onto the tavern porch. "The woman's a fraud, Zafira." He glanced at his wife's fuming face. "And you don't even know if your brother was killed in the fighting or not."

"No, thanks to you," she spat out. "If we had stayed in Madrid instead of coming to this godforsaken place, I might have been able to go to him." She jerked her arm out of his hand. "But no, you had to drag me here and now I'll probably never know if. . .if Ricardo is alive or not."

Diego sighed wearily. They had had this argument more times than he cared to remember. Zafira made him feel as though he was the one who had pulled the trigger that ended her hermano's life.

"Well, this Mayatana woman isn't going to help you find out," he said jadedly.

"How do you know?" she asked. "You don't know everything."

He just shook his head, conceding her point. 

"Besides," Zafira continued, "I have my own money and I can spend it on whatever I please." She glared at him petulantly. "I'm going to make an appointment."

"Very well," said Diego, tired of the conversation. "I'll wait by the carriage."

His wife went back inside the tavern. Diego just shook his head again before walking across the plaza where he had left the carriage. Zafira came back out about twenty minutes later.

"She'll see me tomorrow at two o'clock," she announced as he helped her into the vehicle. Once she was settled in, Diego flicked the reins and they headed back to the hacienda. Again, the distance was traversed in silence between the married couple.

[parts of the following scene taken from "The Unhappy Medium" by Bruce Lansbury]

Much later that evening, Zorro rode Toronado through the hidden entrance of the cave and into the direction of the pueblo. He was soon scaling the side of the tavern, the side where Mayatana and her companion had their rooms. Close scrutiny of both dorms showed the couple were absent.

The masked man made his way over to the front of the tavern in time to see Ricardo and Mayatana walk out its front door and across the plaza to the garrison. Zorro hurriedly scrambled from rooftop to rooftop until he reached the cuartel. Zorro climbed down the side of Ramone's office using his whip. When he reached a window, he flipped upside down before observing what was going on inside.

Money was exchanging hands. The man in black watched as the alcalde picked up piles of coins and bills and hid them away in his wall safe. Most enlightening. Obviously the commandante was receiving a cut of the couple's ill-gotten takings.

The conversation that followed confirmed Zorro's suspicions. Ramone was providing the medium with information about her clients but was now having second thoughts about continuing to assist the pair of charlatans. His father's name was mentioned as a fat cow yet to be milked.

The discussion turned to Zafira's visit the following afternoon. "I really can't tell you much about her," declared the alcalde, pulling out a thin file from a pile on his desk. "She has been married to Don Diego de la Vega for over a year now. He brought her here from Madrid, where he had been at university."

"Any family?" asked Mayatana. 

"Her parents are deceased, I believe," Ramone replied. "If she has any more family, they would be in Spain." He glanced at the woman sitting before him. "Señora de la Vega keeps to herself most of the time. She has few, if any, acquaintances here in Los Angeles.

"Surely you must know something more about her," demanded Ricardo. "Mayatana must be prepared for her appointment with the señora tomorrow."

The commandante furrowed his brow thoughtfully. "She did suffer a miscarriage several months back," he offered after a few minutes.

"Ah," the mystic said knowingly. She got to her feet. "Thank you, Alcalde. You have been most helpful."

She turned to leave. Ricardo glared at Ramone threateningly before following her out the door. Zorro also departed, clambering back up onto the roof and over to where a patient Toronado was waiting. He jumped down onto the stallion's back then headed back to the cave.

Z Z Z

A perturbed Diego returned to the hacienda where he found his father in the study. "Ah, son," said Don Alejandro, standing up from behind his desk. "Zafira told me about her appointment tomorrow. She said I should make one too."

"Father, you know my thoughts on this," Diego remarked. "I just don't see what good. . ."

"It will do me a world of good," countered the elder de la Vega. "I want to hear this message from your mother. Who know? It could be very important."

Diego shook his head, recalling the scene he had just witnessed in the Alcalde's office. "I doubt it," he declared. He looked over at the old don and saw the resolute expression on his lined face. "You're determined to do this, aren't you?" he asked resignedly.

" _Si_ ," Don Alejandro replied. "I am a grown man, Diego. I can make my own decisions. . . And my own mistakes," he added as Diego started to open his mouth to say the same thing.

"Very well," Diego conceded. " _Buenas noches_ , Father."

"Good night, son."

Shaking his head, Diego walked out of the study and toward his bedroom, although he doubted he could sleep. No, he needed to discover just how Mayatana was altering her voice to deliver the supposed tidbits of knowledge from the dead. And, he mused, he needed to come up with a way to publicly expose the medium and Ricardo as the frauds they were. Evidence that was indisputable.

He turned to his right and headed for the library. Within seconds, he was inside the secret cave.

By dawn, he had come up with solutions to both of his dilemmas. The first he tried out on Felipe, nearly scaring the poor lad to death. The second involved either his father's or his wife's cooperation. Diego decided that his parent would be the one to approach, although both of them wouldn't listen to common sense.

Fortunately, the elder de la Vega agreed to the test Diego had devised for the false clairvoyant. Since Felicidad de la Vega had been a devoted patroness of the arts, a deliberately incorrect statement about the subject seemed to be the best way to trip up the medium and her companion. Diego dutifully drove Zafira into the pueblo for her meeting with Mayatana. Don Alejandro came too, even though his engagement with the medium wasn't until several hours later.

Diego and his father walked over to a table in the tavern and sat down as Zafira made her way up the stairs to the second floor. Victoria came over to them, carrying a tray containing two glasses of lemonade and a worried smile on her face.

"Who is Doña Zafira hoping to speak with?" she asked politely.

"Her brother," replied Diego. "Even though we don't know for sure that he is dead."

"Oh." The curiosity was clearly written all over the innkeeper's lovely face.

"He was part of a rebel group trying to remove King Ferdinand from the throne," Diego explained. "He was involved in a siege in Segovia just before Zafira and I left Spain. We didn't know it had occurred until we were already at sea."

"That's terrible," Victoria sympathized. "It is such a horrible feeling, not knowing whether a loved one is alive or not." Tears began to form in the corners of her eyes. Diego realized she was speaking of her father, who had run off and joined the rebels here in the New World. There had been no word of Señor Escalante's fate for several years. And Victoria had had to endure it all by herself, he thought compassionately.

It was nearly an hour later before Zafira came downstairs. Her expression was unreadable as she walked over to the table where her husband and father-in-law sat.

"Well, what did she say?" inquired Don Alejandro anxiously. "Did you speak with your brother?"

"No," Zafira replied as she sat down next to him, "I spoke with my mother. Mayatana said she had a message for me."

Diego looked over at his father and wondered if the old don recognized the same announcement the psychic had used on him. Obviously not, as the elder de la Vega pressed his daughter-in-law for details.

"My mother said that Ricardo was alive," declared Zafira. "And that I would see him again very soon."

"But that's wonderful news!" Don Alejandro exclaimed. "But why are you so troubled, _hija_?"

She glanced over at Diego then back to the old don. "My mother also said that she had a miscarriage too. She told me not to worry. That I would have many children. That Diego and I would. . .

Zafira jumped up and ran out of the tavern. "Zafira!" Don Alejandro called after her as he rose to his feet. He then looked over at his son. "What's the matter with her? She's still not upset about the baby, is she?"

Diego wasn't sure how to reply. No, he was sure that his wife was over losing their child and had been for some time. No doubt it was the thought of having children with him and that she would have to sleep with him for that to occur, was what was distressing her so. But he could hardly inform his father of that little fact.

"She must still be," he lied. "I thought she was better, but. . ." He shrugged his shoulders.

Don Alejandro shook his head knowingly. "It's just harder for women," he stated. "Maybe you should go talk to her, son. Cheer her up a little."

Diego had long ago stopped trying to appease Zafira. No matter what he did for her, it wasn't what she wanted. He smiled grimly at the elder de la Vega. "No, Father," he decided. "I think she's wants to be left alone right now."

"Well, you know best," said his father, obviously thinking the opposite. He took out his pocket watch and looked at its dial. "Only a two more hours until my appointment," he commented.

[parts of the following scene taken from "The Unhappy Medium" by Bruce Lansbury]

Diego waited apprehensively while the elder de la Vega was upstairs with the mock medium. After nearly an hour, Don Alejandro appeared at the balcony.

"It's a fraud. It's all a fraud!" he called out below to the tavern full of people.

Ricardo came rushing out of his room, an angry scowl on his face. A scuffle ensued that Diego ran upstairs to join. Diego got the worst of it as Ricardo tackled him from behind, causing him to fly over the balcony railing and crushing a table below.

Diego laid there, stunned for a moment as the breath had been knocked from his body. His situation didn't improve as Victoria crouched down beside him and touched his arm. The same jolt of pure desire that happened every time they came in contact with each other shot through him. Glancing into her eyes, he saw a fleeting glimpse of confusion before an expression of concern crossed her face. He replied he was fine to her query asking if he was all right.

Diego got to his feet as she went over to the alcalde, demanding he step in. Not likely, Diego thought as he brushed himself off. He was a bit surprised when Ramón actually got up from his table. But his disbelief turned to exasperation when all the commandante managed to do was to goad Ricardo into challenging Diego into a duel.

Well, his father had been assaulted by the con man. But Diego disliked public displays where his valor was called into question. The elder de la Vega shouting that his son was no swordsman did little to boost his ego.

No, Diego thought, Zorro was going to have to fight this duel for him. He told Don Alejandro he was heading back to the hacienda and would be back at the appointed time. In reality, he headed to the pueblo's livery, where an excited Felipe awaited him with Zorro's costume and the money that had been fleeced from the citizens of Los Angeles the youth had nicked from Ricardo's room. 

Everything went according to plan. Zorro bested Ricardo in the plaza, Mendoza made sure that everyone got their money back from the fraudulent psychic (with a little prodding from the man in black). When the alcalde instructed the stout sergeant to arrest Zorro, the masked man had disappeared.

He had gone around the back of the tavern and entered through the kitchen door. An unusually pensive Victoria came into the kitchen, carrying a couple of dirty glasses which she set down on the table. He touched his black-gloved hand to her arm. She spun around with a little gasp that turned into a smile when she saw him.

Zorro took her right hand into both of his. Earlier, during the fight with Ricardo, she had saved him from getting stabbed in the back by the cheating cad. She was not unlike a guardian angel, he thought gratefully.

"Once again I have you to thank for my life, Señorita," he stated before bringing her hand up to his lips to kiss.

"Don Diego has more to be grateful for," she said, her brown eyes searching his. "He would have been no match for Ricardo."

Zorro closed his eyes as the pain her words caused gripped his heart. He hated this. He hated she saw Diego as a weakling, as a coward. Little by little, it was eating him up inside. Gazing upon her lovely face, he plastered a false grin on his.

"I take it you have no regard for Don Diego," he commented, wanting to hear her answer.

"Oh, he's a fine man," she said quickly. "But he's not a fighter. He is a man of peace." She glanced away before adding, "I feel sorry for him. His wife, well. . . I just feel sorry for him."

Zorro shook his head. Pity was definitely not what he wanted from her. Sighing inwardly, he brought her hand to his mouth once again and bestowed a light kiss upon it. "I must go, Señorita," he declared, tipping his head as if he overheard voices outside. " _Adios_."

He climbed up the wall of the kitchen and hopped over a short wall onto the second floor. His heart heavy, he rode out of the pueblo on Toronado, as the people cheered.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - An anonymous proverb, ‘a fool and his money are soon parted.' An appropriate title for the chapter, and I used it mainly because of Mendoza giving his life savings to Mayatana and Ricardo in exchange for their lies about his ancestry, although all the other people who paid for her services were foolish as well.


	24. Perchance to Dream

[parts of the following chapter from "An Explosive Situation" by Philip John Taylor]

Eight months had passed before anyone in the pueblo gave more than a stray thought to the medium and her companion. Eight months that saw Diego and his wife grow even more estranged, even as their second wedding anniversary rapidly approached. Eight months filled with bandits, rustlers, and the alcalde's evil plans of taxing the people of Los Angeles into oblivion.

Which made it so odd Ramone would hold a birthday party at the tavern for his sergeant. Diego had been suspicious of the invitation from the moment it had arrived two days earlier. Even so, he and Felipe had bought Mendoza a present they knew the soldier would enjoy very much.

Diego wished now he had paid more attention to his misgivings about the birthday celebration. Sitting on the floor of the tavern's kitchen, gagged, with his ankles bound together and his wrists tied above his head. He, along with his father, Victoria, the alcalde, and Sergeant Mendoza, were about to be blown to bits, thanks to Ricardo Quintana. The con man had escaped from prison, returning to Los Angeles to seek his revenge.

Diego was sincerely sorry the medium, Mayatana, had died in prison. But as Don Alejandro had pointed out, she and Ricardo had cheated the people of Los Angeles out of thousands of pesos and they had deserved the sentences they had received.

Clearly, Zorro was not going to be able to help out this time, he mused as he struggled futilely against his bonds. In his head, Diego heard Quintana's parting words: " _You have fifty minutes. I could make the fuse shorter but I want you to suffer, as Mayatana suffered. Knowing there is no possibility of escape, knowing that all your hopes, everything you wanted from life will never happen now. Never. I want you to die thinking of Ricardo Quintana._ " 

Their only hope was that Felipe would realize something was amiss and come to their rescue. It was such a thin thread to cling to, but it was all he had at the moment.

He smiled a bit sadly as he thought of the boy he had come to think of as his own. Despite the fact Zafira wanted nothing to do with the lad, Diego still wanted to adopt him. He closed his eyes and let his mind drift. . .

He was being handed a sheaf of papers by a faceless, nameless man. Felipe and his father stood on either side of him. Diego glanced down at the papers in his hand. Words like ‘adoption' and ‘official' sprang up off the parchment as his eyes misted over with tears.

Tears he could also see in Felipe and Don Alejandro's eyes as they all embraced. Diego didn't know where Zafira was nor did he care. The dream of adopting the mute orphan was one even she couldn't crush.

Pictures sprang into his head of Felipe wearing the clothes of a caballero; of him waving from the deck of a ship as he sailed away from the port at San Pedro.

Then Diego was at the university in Madrid, where he and his father were sitting with hundreds of other people as young men walked across a stage. The chancellor of the university was handing each of them a diploma. Diego clapped loudly as he watched as Felipe received his sheepskin then shook the dean's hand. Then the ceremony was over and Diego was embracing his handsome young son.

"You have made me very happy, _hijo_ ," he said.

" _Gracias_ , Father," Felipe replied, saying the words that Diego would never grow tired of hearing. "I owe it all to you."

"Now you can go back to California and begin your career as a lawyer," said Don Alejandro, his lined faced beaming.

" _Si_ , that has been my dream," the young man stated, "ever since I regained my power of speech."

"Just think, top of your class," said the elder de la Vega. "But I always knew you were a bright lad."

"We're both so proud of you, Felipe," Diego said.

Felipe reached out into the crowd of people and grasped a feminine hand. "I want you to finally meet my fiancée," he announced. 

The loud thud of a cabinet landing on the floor near his feet brought Diego out of his reverie before he had a chance to see the face of his adopted son's intended. His father and Ramone were staring at the piece of furniture with disappointed faces. They had obviously thought it would have been tall enough to land on the trail of gunpowder, putting out the flame before it reached the keg of powder on the other side of the room.

Diego looked over at his father, who was a picture of frustration because his attempt to save them hadn't succeeded. He thought of the man who was a hard working rancher, a pillar of the community, a faithful husband, the best of fathers, and who had been a dashingly brave soldier. Diego had tried all his life to live up to the elder de la Vega's example, and it pained him his paternal parent had deemed him a disappointment. 

Alejandro de la Vega wanted a son who was an audacious fighter; not the timid pacifist Diego feigned to be. He didn't want a son who excelled in poetry, music, painting, and the sciences. It obviously didn't matter much to him Diego was a good and loyal son. He wanted a son like Zorro.

How ironic, thought Diego, that his father admired the masked man, praising him in front of his son at every turn, not knowing they were one and the same. And as much as the constant comparisons hurt him, Diego had come to hope that the elder de la Vega would respect him for what he was and not just because he was Zorro. Diego closed his eyes again.

He stood on a dais in the middle of the plaza. The faces of everyone in the pueblo seemed to swim before him. A trio of distinguished looking gray-haired gentlemen stood to his right. The one closest to him handed Diego a certificate, then pinned a medal to the lapel of his jacket.

The man unrolled a scroll then began to read aloud from it. "We present this award to Diego de la Vega, for his scientific endeavors in discovering a cure for the common cold." The gentlemen on the dais then all shook Diego's hand as the people in the plaza cheered and clapped.

Another of the men stepped forward and handed Diego a silver plaque. He too unrolled a parchment and read from it. "This award is presented to Don Diego de la Vega, whose most recent book of poetry is the best selling volume in all of Spain and its territories. This is to honor him for all the joy his words have brought to thousands around the world."

Again the people of Los Angeles applauded. Many of them held up thin black books on which Diego could see his name imprinted in gold lettering.

The third man waited until the noise had died down before coming forward. He held up a gold framed painting that Diego recognized as one of his own. "This is just one of the paintings," the man said in French accented Spanish, "of Señor de la Vega's that have been chosen to hang in the Louvre museum of art in Paris."

Out of the cheering crowd, Don Alejandro appeared. He walked up onto the stage and embraced his son excitedly.

"Please forgive me," requested the elder de la Vega earnestly. "I take back everything I said about your fiddling with pointless experiments, that you were wasting your time on poetry and painting." He pulled himself away from Diego then patted him on the shoulder.

"I'm proud of you, son," the old don declared. "No one could ever ask for a better son."

"What about Zorro?" Diego asked.

"Bah," said Don Alejandro. "He would make a lousy son. Always running about the territory being heroic. Sure, he's saved a few lives here and there. But they're just a drop in the bucket compared to the millions your cure will save. And he could never make as many people happy as you have with your poetry and paintings."

He hugged Diego again. A faint pounding noise intruded into the feeling of euphoria Diego was feeling. He opened his eyes to realize the knocking was coming from the barred front door of the tavern. A quick glance in the direction of the inn's back door told him it too was locked. Anyone trying to enter the building would have to find another way in. A little more hope died inside of him as the rapping stopped. 

Diego watched as the burning fuse inched ever closer to the keg of gunpowder. Morbidly, he wondered how painful being blown to pieces would be. Would it hurt only for an instant? Or would he and the others linger for awhile before succumbing to their mortal injuries?

His stomach roiling, he looked over at Victoria. Her eyes were closed and judging by the blissful expression on her lovely face, she was thinking of something much more pleasant than her impending demise.

_Dios mio, Victoria_. She was the biggest regret of his life. He cursed himself; and not for the first time; for impulsively marrying Zafira. A day didn't go by that he wished he had returned to California a single man. A man who could pursue the woman he had fallen in love with the moment he had laid eyes on her again.

Now it was just a tangled web of lies and deceit, pretending to care for his wife while he truly loved the lovely innkeeper. And it wasn't any consolation Victoria had fallen for his alter ego, whom she thought could court her to his heart's content. 

How he wished he had resisted Zafira's now faded charms. Diego wasn't sure why she had married him, but he knew now it wasn't because she loved him as she had claimed. His mind drifted back to their first meeting. He had been out with Miguel, strolling through the weekly mercado near the university. Zafira had literally ran into him. He frowned as he remembered how they both had been full of apologies as he helped her back onto her feet. 

He and Miguel had taken her to a nearby café for a cup of coffee. But all of Zafira's attention had been focused on him. She had charmingly flirted with him, totally ignoring Miguel.

Looking back upon it now, Diego realized it had been very strange Zafira had fixated on him. Miguel had always been the one to whom all the señoritas had thronged. That Zafira hadn't even spared him a second glance had been very unusual indeed.

Shaking his head, he opened his eyes and glanced over at Victoria again. He loved her so much. Shutting his eyes again, he envisioned the day he had stepped into the tavern and saw her again. She had been so beautiful, her dark eyes flashing with anger that had changed to sparkling awareness when she noticed his presence.

Diego wished that there hadn't been a crisis in the pueblo. That Ramone hadn't been a petty tyrant bent on bleeding Los Angeles dry. That he had been able to pursue Victoria, to have asked for her hand in marriage.

They could have been married for almost two years by now. Diego groaned silently as he thought of her, dressed in a virginal white nightgown, as she came to him on their wedding night. He would have slowly removed the thin cotton garment, baring her lovely golden body. He could feel the silken texture of her skin beneath his as they kissed and caressed each other as he made her his.

And children. . . They would have had a least one child by now, he surmised. A sturdy little lad with dark hair and his mother's brown eyes. Or perhaps a little niña with raven curls and dark eyes. 

He could see in his mind's eye the picture of him and Victoria holding hands as they stood of the doorway of the hacienda courtyard and watched as their half a dozen or so children played. The air was ringing with laughter. . .

The sound of a muffled shout from Victoria shook Diego from his reveries. Her eyes were wide with panic as she stared at the burning fuse, which was now less than a foot away from the keg of gunpowder. Diego could see the other men were alarmed as well although they were doing their best not to let it show. 

He turned his head away, not wanting them to see the fear etched on his own face. A cork sitting on a table to his right caught his eye. His gaze traveled upward and he saw an opened bottle of wine situated next to it, close to the table's edge.

Diego looked over at the fuse then back up at the wine bottle and quickly calculated the distance and the angles. If he could just reach the leg of the table right next to him. . .

He stretched his legs as far as he could and hooked the toe of his right boot around the table leg. He glanced again at the fuse then moved the table toward him a couple of inches. Then Diego drew back both legs and pushed the first table into the second one, where the uncorked bottle of wine sat. 

The bottle toppled over and the white wine it contained spilled out of it, directly onto the burning fuse. Its flame was snuffed out mere inches from the powder keg. Diego sagged back against the wall, his body weak with relief.

He smiled despite his gag as he heard his father laugh and Victoria giggle. They all looked at each other, including the alcalde and the sergeant, whose faces also reflected his own elation. Everybody then turned their attention to the loud pounding coming from the front door of the tavern. 

Diego's heart leapt as he recognized Felipe rushing into the kitchen, followed by two other men from the pueblo. The youth immediately made his way over to his mentor and began untying the cloth covering his mouth.

"Well done, Felipe!' exclaimed Diego as soon as he could speak.

Ramone stared indignantly at him as his gag was being removed by one of the men. "Well done? The boy was five minutes too late! Bah!"

"The alcalde is right," Mendoza said a little more appreciatively as his hands were untied. "If it wasn't for Don Diego, we would all be meeting our maker."

"You were magnificent, Don Diego!" added Victoria, a beaming smile gracing her beautiful face.

The admiration he heard in her voice caused Diego to pause as he reached down to free his feet. He glanced over at Victoria, his heart welling up with love. 

"Yes, my son, magnificent." His father's voice cut into his overt ardor of the lovely innkeeper. "Even Zorro couldn't have done it better."

Diego couldn't stop the huge grin that spread across his face. He lowered his head and finished untying the rope that bound his ankles together. He looked up when he felt a hand on his shoulder and saw Felipe's happy young face. He got to his feet and gave the boy a hug. 

As they moved apart, Felipe made a quick ‘Z' as he glanced up at Diego questioningly. Diego gave him an almost unperceptive nod before patting the lad on the back. He then went over to help his father to his feet.

"All this excitement," he began as the elder de la Vega brushed himself off. "It's left me quite fatigued. I think I'll go home and lie down for a while."

A pair of eye rolls from his father and Victoria and a knowing smirk from Ramone greeted his pronouncement, a grim acknowledgment of his acting ability. Diego tried to brush the bitter thoughts from his mind as he and Felipe left the tavern.

It was nearly dark by the time Diego, accompanied by Don Alejandro and Felipe, strolled through the front door of the hacienda. Zafira ran up to them instantly. "Where have you been?" she demanded stridently. "I expected you back hours ago."

His father began to fill in his daughter-in-law of the harrowing events of their afternoon. Felipe, after seeing the hostile glance Zafira had shot his way, glanced up at Diego before heading off toward the kitchen.

Diego paid little attention to what Don Alejandro was saying, having little desire to relive the experience.

"And Diego's quick thinking saved us from being all blown to bits," stated the elder de la Vega proudly. He patted his hand on his son's shoulder.

Zafira looked up then at Diego and he saw the loathing in her eyes directed at him. There was no doubt she was not at all thrilled he had returned home in one piece.

" _Si_ , I'm sure he was quite the hero," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. She slipped her arm through the old don's. "Well, I'm glad you're safe and sound. You must be exhausted."

"No, not at all," his father said as she began to lead him away. "I feel as though I could eat a horse though."

His wife's twittering laughter echoed bitterly in Diego's ears. At least Quintana was in jail, he thought, thanks to Zorro. Hopefully the madman would never bother any of them again. His mind recalled that besides his father, Victoria and Mendoza had also been grateful for both his and Zorro's actions that day.

Then he chuckled as he remembered the sergeant's reaction to the present (a box full of beans) he and Felipe had given him, even though they now knew it wasn't the soldier's birthday.

Evidently Diego hadn't been the only one who had been deliberating over his hopes and desires it seemed. Sighing again, he turned and followed after his wife and father.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - Another Shakespearean quote, again from "Hamlet" (Act 3 Scene 1). It is part of the famous ‘To be or not to be' soliloquy by the character Hamlet. It's further down in the monologue, "To die, to sleep; to sleep, perchance to dream." 
> 
> Since the episode this chapter is based on ("An Explosive Situation" 1.23) is filled with some of the others characters's dreams and fantasies, I thought this was an excellent title for what I came up with as Diego's dreams and fantasies, plus his fondness for Shakespeare.


	25. Chapter 25

"I just don't see why it has to be you," said Zafira in a scornful tone. She was wearing a riding habit of a dark burgundy wool Diego had given her the month before for Christmas as she stood in the foyer of the de la Vega hacienda. She held a riding crop in her right hand.

"No one else is qualified," Diego retorted sharply. "No one else has had the education I have received."

"Oh, yes," she said mockingly. "No one should ever forget that Diego de la Vega went to university in Spain. He's so much smarter than the rest of us mere mortals."

"Zafira. . ." he pleaded, glancing over his shoulder into the library where Felipe was pretending to be diligently working on some geometry problems Diego had given him to do. "This is not the time nor place for this discussion."

"It's never the time or place," she stated angrily. "I'm going out. You clearly don't need me here. You have your little protégé to take care of," she added with a sneer. She hit her left palm with the crop, obviously wishing she was using on something. . .or someone. . .else.

Then with a swirl of her long skirt, Zafira swept out of the hacienda, slamming the door in her wake. Diego just shook his head before going back over to where Felipe was sitting. The lad shot him a look of sympathy.

"Well, let's get back to our lesson, shall we?" Diego suggested in a calm voice that belied the churning emotions that filled him. It had been months since he and Zafira had gone riding together and her request he join her this morning had surprised him. He wondered at the motives behind her invitation.

Did she wish to reconcile the differences between them? He highly doubted it, given her behavior at his refusal. Diego sighed wearily before smiling wryly at Felipe . "All right then," he began, "the Pythagorean theorem. . ."

[parts of the following scene taken from "Family Business" written by Philip John Taylor]

Morning had just slipped into afternoon when Diego decided it was time to call a halt to Felipe's lessons. The youth had been doodling on his paper for the past twenty minutes, little pictures of horses and of the hacienda that were really quite good, Diego thought with a modicum of pride.

"So the square of the hypotenuse is equal to the sum of the squares on the hacienda roof," Diego declared, mainly to see if the boy actually was paying attention.

Felipe, with his long limbs sprawled on the settee, continued to scribble on his paper.

"Right, Felipe?" questioned Diego, his voice full of sarcastic amusement.

The young man started at the mention of his name, then looked shamefaced as Diego plucked up the paper full of sketches and held it up in front of him. 

"I think that's enough, don't you?"

Felipe nodded enthusiastically as Diego handed him back his paper. Diego then closed the text book they had been using. 

"You know, with Father away in San Bernardino, we really should check on things in the breeding barn," he suggested, feeling the need, as no doubt Felipe did as well, to get outside and do something physical.

The lad nodded again and jumped up to his feet. Both he and Diego walked out of the library toward the hacienda's front door. Diego turned the handle then pushed open the heavy wood door and was taken aback to see a woman standing there. He had not heard anyone knock and by the stunned look on Felipe's face, that he hadn't either.

"You are Don Diego de la Vega?" queried the woman who appeared to be in her early to mid-thirties. Diego gave her an assessing stare, taking in her light brown hair and blue eyes.

"I am indeed," he finally said, realizing he was being rude. " _Buenas tardes_."

The woman then looked over at Felipe and her breath caught in her throat. "Then you must be Jose."

Diego also glanced over at the youth, his expression certainly mirroring the confused countenance Felipe wore. "Oh, no," he said, "this lad's name is Felipe."

The woman shook her head stubbornly. "No, it is Jose," she declared firmly before adding, "Derenoso. And I am his mother." 

Diego and Felipe stared at each other in astonishment. Diego's heart did a little flip when he saw the look of hope that flared in the young man's dark eyes. Something he had once wished for, but over the years had come to dread, had at last happened. A relative had finally stepped forward to claim Felipe.

"Oh, who's this?" 

Zafira's overly polite voice proceeded her as she stepped up onto the front stairs. With her cheeks pink from the brisk January wind and her hair coming loose from its pins, she apparently had just arrived back from her ride.

"I am Señora Yolanda Derenoso," said the woman before Diego had a chance to open his mouth. "I'm here to reclaim my son."

"Your son?" inquired Zafira. She glanced from Diego to Felipe. "Oh, don't tell me, the boy here is your son? How happy you both must be to have found each other again! Come in," she offered, taking the woman's arm.

"Yes, _por favor_ ," said Diego cautiously. "We all want to hear your _story_." Only Felipe noticed his emphasis on the last word and looked up at him sharply.

They stepped back inside the hacienda, Zafira leading the señora into the formal parlor. "Maria," she called out to the housekeeper who was passing by a nearly archway. "Coffee, _por favor_."

Diego noticed there were pieces of hay and a large grass stain on the seat of Zafira's skirt as she sat down. But if she had taken a fall, she did not show it. Maybe she had sat on patch of damp grass somewhere, probably contemplating how miserable her life was with him, he surmised bitterly.

"I want to hear what happened to Jose," said Señora Derenoso as she sat down in a chair opposite Felipe. Zafira sat on the boy's right. "My story can wait."

The housekeeper brought a silver tray which bore an urn of coffee and four cups. After everyone had been served, Diego got to his feet, leaving his beverage untouched.

"I was seventeen," he began, pacing the floor as he spoke. "My tutor and I were on our back from my great-uncle's funeral in Guadalajara. Quite by chance, I ran into one of the last battles of the August Revolution." He stopped as he saw his face reflected back to him in the glass door of a nearby cabinet. "It was a total victory for the government troops.

"We weren't allowed to travel through the area, but we could hear the cannons. Their smoke filled the small valley. It was chaotic, people were running in every direction. The soldiers completely overran the rebels."

Diego paused again as he remembered the horror he had felt at the time. Swallowing hard, he continued. "We, my tutor and I, we walked across the battlefield three days later, in the hopes of offering the injured our help." He shook his head as he recalled his naivety. "There were no survivors. Just one small, terrified little boy sitting against a tree. I picked him up and. . ."

He couldn't finish as he caught a glimpse of Felipe's face in the glass cabinet door. The anguish that he saw there made him understand the youth was also reliving his own dreadful memories.

The señora took a sip of her coffee then cleared her throat. "We had been staying in the village when the fighting broke out," she declared flatly. "We had piled what we could of our belongings into a cart and tried to escape. A cannon ball hit near us, overturning the cart. I was knocked unconscious."

She looked over at Felipe before going on. "Your father was dead beside me, Jose," she said. Diego winced at her use of the lad's real name. "The cart had fallen on my leg, I couldn't move. It was two days before they rescued me."

Diego glanced at her pointedly. How convenient, that she was rescued the day before he had searched the area. And if that were true, how did the rescuers miss Felipe? Of course, the boy's lack of hearing and speech at the time probably had prevented him from calling attention to himself, Diego grudgingly conceded.

"Thankfully, Felipe remembers very little of it all," he said, only hoping that his statement was true. "He was lost, frightened, unable to speak of what he'd seen."

"And so you brought him here?" Señora Derenoso asked.

Diego turned and walked back over to where the other three were sitting. "No. I first made inquiries at every single village in the territory," he explained. "No one would take him in. Heaven knows they had enough trouble of their own." He reached out to touch Felipe on the head. The youth looked up at him then over at the woman across from him. Diego saw that his eyes were threatening to spill with tears.

"This young man has shared my most intimate secrets," declared Diego as he crouched down in front of Felipe. Zafira made a disgusted sound with her tongue. Diego glared at her and she closed her mouth. "He's been like a son to me. And yet I'm not his real father." 

Felipe glanced up, the honor he felt from Diego's statement evident on his face. "The choice is yours, my friend," Diego said. "But whichever road you take, know that you're still in my heart." He stood up and took a step away from the young man. 

"Is this your mother?"

"Of course she is," Zafira blurted out, apparently unable to contain herself any longer. " _Si_ , their coloring is different. He must take after his father there. But just look at their faces. There is no doubt they are mother and son."

"Zafira, this is not your concern," Diego ground out. "Let Felipe make up his mind on his own." He was extremely angry by his wife's outburst. Not only because it was rude but she had a point. He had seen the similarities between the two of them himself, the shape of their noses, the angle of their chins. Even their eyes were the same shape, albeit different colors.

Felipe stared up at Diego and then over at the señora, then back at Diego again, the uncertainty plain on his youthful face. He turn to Señora Derenoso once more and Diego knew then the lad had made his choice. As Felipe mouthed the word ‘mother', Diego could feel his heart crumbling into a million pieces. The woman reached across the space that separated her from Felipe and took his hand. The smiles on their faces tore through Diego's gut like a knife. 

He made the mistake of turning away from the reunited mother and son and instead saw the gleam of triumph in his wife's eyes. Diego had to choke back the bile that rose in his throat. _Dios mio, no_. The idea hit him like a blow to the stomach. Had Zafira put the señora up to this? Was this just a ploy to remove Felipe from the hacienda?

" _Con permiso_ ," he said abruptly before turning on his heel and leaving the parlor. He noticed, however, the stricken expression that had come over Felipe's face then. Diego closed his eyes for a second then continued on his way out of the hacienda.

Z Z Z

"Diego, there you are," said Zafira as she stepped out into the courtyard. "I thought you were probably off pouting somewhere."

He rose up from the bench he had been sitting on and regarded his spouse coolly. "Zafira," he began, not sure how to put his question into words but then deciding to just blurt it out. "Did you have anything to do with this?

"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice full of confusion. Then her eyes widened as she realized what he was asking. "You think. . . You think I hired that woman to come take away your precious ‘son'?" She glared at him angrily before continuing. "For your information, I didn't. Although if I had thought of it, I might. . ."

She didn't finish as Diego grabbed her arms and pulled her over to face him. "You. . . You. . ." He couldn't think coherently, let alone form a sentence. He pushed her away.

Zafira easily extracted herself from his slackened grip. "You're pathetic, Diego," she said with a nasty laugh. "You sicken me how you dote on that brat. You've always spent more time with him than with me. I should have guessed you preferred boys. . ."

" _Callarse!_ Shut up!" The churning of Diego's stomach became even more agitated. That his own wife thought that. . . That he . . . It made him sick just to contemplate it. And that she thought he did such things with Felipe. . . He had to put his hand on his mouth to stop from retching. 

"You really are pitiful, Diego," Zafira said contemptuously. "I thought you would like to know that Yolanda and the boy are leaving. I wouldn't want you to miss saying goodbye to them."

She spun around and went back inside the hacienda. Diego closed his eyes. _Dios_. He knew that Zafira despised him but until now, he had no idea of the depth of her hatred.

Taking several deep breaths in a vain attempt to calm himself, Diego then walked to the other end of the courtyard to the front of the hacienda.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "Family Business" written by Philip John Taylor]

It was nearly half an hour later when Diego, Felipe, and Señora Derenoso entered the tavern. Diego immediately spotted Victoria who was looking upstairs and frowning. He remembered then her brother, Francisco, was in Los Angeles for much anticipated visit. He wondered why she seemed so worried.

Her expression changed little as she turned and saw him. "Is something wrong?" she asked, looking from him to Felipe.

"Felipe came to say goodbye," declared Diego.

"Goodbye?" Victoria's voice became a bit shrill with shock. "Where is he going?"

"To Mexico City," he explained. He indicated the woman standing behind Felipe. "Señora Derenoso is his mother."

Victoria's mouth dropped open as Felipe and the señora gazed at each fondly. "Are you sure?" she queried quietly.

"No," replied Diego honestly. "But it is Felipe's decision. And he wants to go with her. Their wagon is waiting outside."

Victoria put a sympathetic hand on his arm and even though his heart was breaking, his loins stirred with the desire he always felt whenever they touched each other. "I'm so sorry, Don Diego. I know how much he means to you. I'm going to miss him too."

" _Gracias_ , Victoria," he said through slightly clenched teeth. He didn't know how much more of her empathy he could take before he did something foolish. Like take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. He pulled his arm away from her small hand and turned away, gesturing to Felipe and his mother to go outside.

Once they were all out in the plaza, Diego assisted Señora Derenoso into the wagon. He turned to face Felipe, trying to mask the agony he was going through and saw the small flash of hesitation that passed over the excited young man's face. Surreptitiously, the youth pressed a piece of paper into Diego's hand. 

"One last time," Diego commented with a lump in his throat, "then you are Jose forever."

Felipe threw his arms around Diego's middle. Diego hugged him then patted him on the back.

"Goodbye, Felipe," he whispered, struggling to keep the tears from his eyes. 

Felipe climbed up into the wagon, sitting down beside his long-lost mother. The boy's eyes remained locked with Diego's as the conveyance rumbled out of the pueblo with Señora Derenoso at the reins .

Diego knew without looking that Victoria was standing behind him. Then he heard a man's voice, one he could not place but yet it sounded familiar.

"Amazing," declared the man. "That boy bears the most uncanny resemblance to the son of my friend, Emilio Alvarado."

The man's words barely registered to Diego though as he recalled the note that Felipe had given him just moments earlier. He unfolded it and for a second or two, the black ink blurred on the white paper. Blinking several times, Diego then read from the note.

" _You gave me a home when I had none_ ," the neatly penned words began as he murmured them to himself. " _Love when I thought it was lost. I shall never forget you. Give my regards to Z. Felipe_."

Diego felt like he had been punched in the stomach. He would never forget Felipe either. He looked up in time to see the wagon pass under the pueblo gate. He turned away, his hot tears burning his eyes.

Adios, Felipe, he thought morosely as he went over to where his mare, Esperanza, was waiting in front of the tavern. He hoisted himself up into the saddle and urged the horse out of town. Every hoof beat was like a hammer to his heart.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - It's the second half of the quote, "A little more than kin, a little less than kind', which the first half was used for chapter sixteen. Again from Shakespeare's "Hamlet".
> 
> This chapter has to do with kin again, albeit under false pretenses. Zafira is particularly unkind in this chapter, due to her jealousy of Diego's paternal relationship with Felipe.


	26. Masked Emotions

Diego was determined not to let Zafira see how much Felipe's departure affected him. He had seen her gloating expression as he had left the hacienda to escort the lad and Señora Derenoso to the pueblo. And he had noticed her smug smile as she sat on a settee in the library, reading a book, upon his return.

So, she had finally got what she wanted, he thought acrimoniously. She had detested Felipe since the moment she had first laid eyes on the youth. Diego still was not convinced that she had not somehow plotted with the señora. It was just too coincidental an occurrence. 

But surely, Zafira was not that petty. To deprive him of the friend whom he had come to think of as a son. . . Diego shook his head. 

Pointedly ignoring her, he sat down at the piano and began to play a lively tune. Diego glanced over at his wife and saw her staring at him with a inscrutable expression on her face. His fingers glided over the ivory and ebony keys as he lifted his right eyebrow. She lowered her gaze back down to the pages of her novel.

[parts of the following scene taken from "Family Business" written by Philip John Taylor]

A half an hour later, there was suddenly a loud and insistent knocking on the front door. Realizing he was closer to the door than any of the servants, Diego started to rise from the piano bench. But before he could get to his feet, the door flew open and Victoria Escalante stepped inside the hacienda.

She was breathing hard and holding her left side. Diego wondered if she had run all the way from Los Angeles. "Señorita Escalante?" he inquired, a bit worried as to why she was there.

"Don Diego," she gasped out. "Felipe is in danger. I know it."

Zafira set her book aside and got up from the settee. She came over and stood beside her husband. "What nonsense is this?" she asked stridently. "The boy is with his mother. . .where he belongs."

Victoria shook her head. "No, I don't believe she is his mother," she stated. "My brother, Francisco, says that Felipe is almost identical to the son of a friend of his who is the president of a bank in Mexico City." 

"Oh, yes," said Diego, trying to keep the panic from his voice as Señora Derenoso's plan now became obvious to him. "I forgot Francisco is here for a visit. I'll have to drop by and see him before he leaves." 

"Felipe, the son of a bank official?" queried Zafira with a sneer. "Surely not. . ."

" _Perdóne_ , Señora," interrupted Victoria crossly, "but that's not what I said."

"Then why are you bothering us?" Zafira asked testily. "The boy is with his family. Everyone is happy."

Victoria glanced up at Diego and he saw her eyes fill with compassion. "Not everyone," she said quietly.

Zafira stared at her with a look of loathing. "Mind your own business, Señorita," she said nastily. "I'm sure your. . . _customers_ are missing you." She went back into the library and resumed her place on the settee.

Diego glared at her. How dare she imply that the patrons of the tavern were there for more than innocent reasons. Forcing his temper to cool down, he led Victoria away from his wife.

"So this twin of Felipe's is the son of a bank president?" he inquired, returning to the reason for the innkeeper's visit.

Victoria nodded. "Francisco says they are like two peas in a pod."

"What an incredible coincidence," Diego remarked casually, knowing deep down it was far from it. She was right, Felipe was in grave danger. He would be facing prison time, or worse, if he was to be used to help rob a bank.

"Oh, it is more than a coincidence," contended Victoria, "and you must do something about it."

"Yes, yes, of course," agreed Diego noncommittally as he and Victoria walked through the still open front door. "I'll start searching right away. Although they're probably many miles away by now. Heaven knows which road they took."

"Diego, you have to try and find him," Victoria pleaded. "I think she means to use him to rob that bank. If only Zorro knew of this."

She placed her hand on Diego's arm. And it still affected him even though his skin lay beneath his linen shirt and his woolen jacket. Victoria looked up and their eyes caught for a moment. He saw, just for split second, longing in her dark brown eyes. Diego quickly averted his gaze.

"I must go," Victoria declared uneasily, snatching her hand away as if it had been singed. She turned away from him and practically ran through the hacienda gate. Diego watched her leave, feeling his face contort with anger at the knowledge he had foolishly allowed Felipe to walk into a trap.

Z Z Z

Less than three hours later, Zorro was riding Toronado alongside a wagon being driven by Felipe. The lad's supposed mother, and her male coconspirator, were tied and gagged in the wagon's bed. The man in black nudged his stallion into the horses pulling the conveyance and it came to a halt on the outskirts of the pueblo de Los Angeles.

Dismounting quickly, Zorro reached into one of his saddlebags and extracted paper and quill. He wrote swiftly, outlining who the captives where and their crimes. After attaching the note to the man's back, the masked man walked up to where a despondent Felipe sat, patiently holding the reins.

"Take these two to Sergeant Mendoza," he said slowly, pretending he didn't know the youth could hear. "Do you understand?"

Felipe nodded. Zorro was taken aback by the defiant look in the boy's eyes. Figuring he must be seeing things, he deliberately added, "I've jotted down an explanation for you to give the good sergeant." He patted Felipe on the leg. " _Adios_."

The young man flicked the reins and the wagon started rolling down the road. Zorro waved mockingly at the pair of kidnappers as they passed by where he stood. Then he went over to where the Andalusian was grazing on some nearby bunch grass.

"Come on, old boy," he said affectionately, patting the horse's neck before swinging himself back up into the saddle. "We have a very brave and very beautiful lady to thank."

He urged Toronado in the direction of the tavern's back door.

[parts of the following scene taken from "Family Business" written by Philip John Taylor]

It was some time later before Zorro and Toronado headed back to their hideout in the hillside behind the de la Vega hacienda. The man in black smiled wryly as he let his mind drift back to the events of just a few minutes earlier, after Felipe had delivered his kidnappers to Sergeant Mendoza.

After Francisco had tried to turn Zorro over to the alcalde. After he finally listened to his sister, switching sides and fighting alongside the man in black against Ramone and his lancers, eventually locking them inside their own cuartel. To the conversation he had had with Victoria. A conversation that keep bouncing around in his head.

"You will take Felipe back to Don Diego?" Zorro had asked the lovely innkeeper. She nodded as she brushed her hair from her eyes. "You were a very brave lady to defend your brother with your life."

If he had harbored any doubts about her courage, they had been dispelled that afternoon. She would have laid down her life for anyone she loved. And it was a bit unnerving that included him, someone who was so unworthy of her devotion.

Victoria had smiled up at him. "Oh, it just wasn't for my brother."

"I know." He gazed down upon her, his heart aching with love and desire. He had seen the expectation in her eyes, had known what she wanted him to say. He glanced about the crowded plaza, where people were still buzzing with excitement and where they were the center of attention.

"Perhaps another time," he had suggested, hoping she missed the insincerity in his voice as he had no intention of declaring his love as long as he was a married man, "when we don't have an audience."

Victoria's expression had looked so sorrowful. "Is it so difficult to say?" she begged unhappily.

Yes. "No," he fibbed. "But it must not be said until this mask is removed forever."

She nodded, her eyes full of disappointed understanding. Zorro reached down and took her left hand, holding it in both of his before he brought it to his lips for a lingering kiss. It was so frustrating, he thought bitterly, that this was all he could have of her. That her hands were the only part of her he could ever touch. Dragging his mouth away reluctantly, he gazed into her eyes.

She was looking back at him with the same face she had earlier when she had come to warn Diego about Felipe. That same look of longing she had shown his unmasked self. Hearing loud shouts and banging noises coming from the garrison, he had seized upon them as an excuse to escape her company.

If only he could abscond from his wife's presence so easily, he thought darkly as he rode his black stallion through the narrow tunnel to the secret cave. It seemed Victoria had brought Felipe back to the hacienda and the walls were reverberating with the sound of Zafira's displeasure at the boy's return.

He swiftly stripped off his black costume and changed back into his white linen shirt and brown trousers as his wife's shrill voice carried on with only infrequent lapses of silence. A quick peek through the viewing hole told him that his usual way out of the cave was blocked as the two women stood near the entrance to the library. And however intense their discussion might be, he was sure at least one of them would notice him emerging from a secret panel in the fireplace.

Instead, he utilized a passageway that he and Felipe had used only once before and exited from the fireplace in his father's room. An egress normally too dangerous to use but since the elder de la Vega was away. . . He walked purposefully into the foyer where his spouse was trying to browbeat answers from Victoria, who, to his delight, was not backing down an inch from Zafira's tirade.

"I told you to mind your own business," his wife yelled at the innkeeper. "He doesn't belong here. He never did."

"That's not true at all," Victoria retorted, flicking her eyes over at Felipe, whose head was hanging down as he pretended not to hear what was being said about him by the two women. "This is his home. Don Diego and Don Alejandro have made it so. Who are you to say otherwise?"

"Who are you to even interfere?" demanded Zafira. "You are nothing but a cheap. . ."

"Felipe's back?" interjected Diego, not having to fake the surprised happiness in his tone. The lad looked over at him only after the women had directed their attention his way and a smile crept over his young face.

Diego held out his arms and embraced the boy he had thought never to see again. "You're back," he reiterated as he pulled back and looked into the youth's happy face. He glanced over at Victoria. "What happened? Where is Señora Derenoso?"

Victoria quickly filled him in on all the details he already knew. "I knew she wasn't his mother," she declared once again.

"And you were right," Diego agreed gratefully. " _Gracias_ , Señorita."

Zafira glared from Diego to Victoria. "Fine," she snarled before leaving in a huff. They all started, even Felipe, as she slammed shut her bedroom door. Fortunately, all of Victoria's attention was focused on Diego. 

"I'm sorry, Don Diego," she began earnestly. "I didn't mean to cause any strife between you and Doña Zafira."

"It's not your fault," he reassured her. And it wasn't. His wife had begun turning away from him almost from the day they were married, even before they had reached California and he had fallen in love with Victoria. "Zafira. . . Well, she's still having difficulty adjusting. . ." He trailed off as his excuse sounded lame even to his ears.

" _Si_ , of course," murmured Victoria politely. She stepped over to where Felipe stood in the entrance of the parlor. "I'm glad you're back home," she said carefully before enveloping him in her arms. The boy's face glowed bright red over her shoulder as Diego grew envious of the sight of the lad in Victoria's embrace. Both men cleared their expressions as she moved away from Felipe.

"Well, I have to be getting back," she stated. "Francisco is leaving and I need to say goodbye before he goes."

"Tell him I'm sorry I missed him," Diego said truthfully. 

"I will, Don Diego." With those words, Victoria turned and walked out of the hacienda. Diego watched her until the front door closed firmly behind her, not even bothering to keep the wistfulness from his countenance.

Felipe passed in front of him on his way to the library where he immediately went over to the fireplace and tripped the panel that opened in its back. He had disappeared before it even registered with Diego what he had done.

He found the boy running a currying brush over Toronado's gleaming black coat. "What's wrong, Felipe?" he asked in confusion. The mutinous look he had seen earlier that day had returned to the lad's face.

After the youth had tossed down the brush, he used his hands to sign his answer. "Why did I let you go with her?" asked Diego, wondering if he had translated correctly.

Felipe nodded, an angry expression stealing over his face.

"Felipe, it was your choice to leave," stated Diego. "I wanted you to stay. I didn't want you to go."

Another flurry of gestures had Diego shaking his head. "Felipe, stop," he interjected, holding up his hand. "I know you're mad at yourself at being duped. I feel the same way. I'm sorry this happened but you mustn't blame yourself for. . ."

The lad made a couple of quick signals, breaking into Diego's speech. "You blame me?" Diego inquired, taken aback by the venomous look in the young man's eyes. "Felipe, I don't understand. Why do you think it's my fault?"

Felipe signed his response then looked down at his feet. "You think Zafira influenced me?" interpreted Diego. He reached out and touched the youth's arm. "Nothing could be further from the truth. It's true though she doesn't want you here," he said quickly as the lad's head had snapped up to glare at him. He sighed.

"I know, I should have asked for more proof from the señora," he said guiltily. "But there was a resemblance and she did sound genuine. I just wanted you to be happy, Felipe," he stated. "I know how much you miss your family."

Felipe shook his head violently then pointed at Diego then himself then launched into a flurry of signs.

"I did not _give you away_ to the first person who came along and claimed to be related to you," he replied, slightly injured at the boy's accusation. He shook his head, feeling wrung out by the emotions that had churned through him that day. "Felipe, let's not argue about this now. The wounds are still too fresh. Just let me say I'm very sorry and I am very glad that you are back home."

The young man stared at him with narrowed eyes for a few moments. Then he held up the middle finger of his right hand before turning and stalking out of the cave, leaving an astonished Diego, his mouth hanging open stupidly, to stare at the empty entranceway and to wonder where Felipe had learned the vulgar gesture.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - Diego spends a lot of time in this chapter ‘masking' his emotions - about how he feels about Felipe leaving, how he feels about Victoria, how he feels about his wife. I thought it was an appropriate title.


	27. Another Man's Poison

Colonel Palomarez had returned.

And as the year before when the military man had come to Los Angeles, he was about to wreak havoc upon the citizens of the pueblo.

It was just one more thing to add to the growing pile of problems that had been heaped upon Diego's broad shoulders in the past month. He, despite how many overtures he made toward Felipe, couldn't get the young man to meet him halfway across the chasm that had sprung up between them. He really couldn't fault the boy. He _had_ let him go off with that woman. But he had apologized over and over again for his lapse in judgement. But Felipe refused to be placated.

The youth disappeared from the hacienda for hours at time, not telling Diego where he was going nor what he was doing. Diego was growing more and more concerned, especially after the day just a week earlier when he had gotten a whiff of alcohol on the lad's breath.

Then there had been Zafira to contend with. She was incensed Felipe had come back to the hacienda and was making everyone's life as miserable as she thought hers was She never talked to Diego except to insult him or to complain about the conditions in which he was making her live. Her list of grievances grew longer each day, it seemed.

[parts of the following scene taken from "Palomarez Returns" written by Robert L McCullough]

So it was no wonder that Diego took himself off to the tavern every chance he could. And that was where he was one afternoon, letting Sergeant Mendoza think he was teaching him how to play poker.

"Well, you have finally met your match, Don Diego," gloated Mendoza as he looked over the cards in his hand.

"Yes, I can see you know this game very well, Sergeant," Diego lied glibly. Everyone in the pueblo knew what an abysmal gambler the good sergeant was, though he did get lucky every once in a while.

The soldier smiled boastfully. "Well, you do pick up a few tricks in the barracks." He set his cards down, three eights and two aces; a full house.

Diego had a hard time keeping a straight face as he laid his four queens down on the table. "Then I suppose this is just beginner's luck?" he asked with mock innocence. 

Mendoza was stunned. "B. . B. . .But I had a perfect hand," he stammered.

Diego patted the sergeant on the shoulder and offered to buy him lunch. The promise of free food perked the soldier's sagging spirit right up. Those feelings of elation were dashed, however, when they learned from Victoria she had just fired her relief cook. It seemed the alcalde had enacted a bed tax and the innkeeper couldn't pay both it and for outside help in her kitchen.

"You have your commandante to thank for you empty belly," Victoria pointed out a little harshly. Diego saw she had an opened account book on the bar, her countenance unusually worried as she went over it. He sincerely hoped her business was not in trouble.

Mendoza was taken aback by her angry outburst. "Well. . ." he said, "the alcalde can be a bit aggressive. Look on the bright side. . ."

Victoria broke into the sergeant's weak reasoning. "Mendoza, there is no bright side to oppression."

Smiling at her audacity, Diego took the opportunity the heated discussion between the innkeeper and the soldier provided to feast his gaze on Victoria. Dios, but he loved to watch her when her temper was riled. The way her eyes sparkled, the flush that rose on her smooth cheeks, the way her. . . Then Mendoza said something that recaptured his attention away from Victoria's heaving bosom.

"Well, the Alcalde is better than Colonel Palomarez. Is he not?"

Diego slid a glance over at the soldier. "That's not saying so much, Sergeant," he said sardonically.

"Sergeant Mendoza," Victoria began loudly, "please do not mention that name again in my tavern. I would rather die than submit to his rule." She slammed her ledger shut.

"Is that so, Señorita?" drawled an evil voice they all had hoped never to hear again. Everyone's attention was drawn to the open door of the tavern to where Colonel Mefisto Palomarez stood, his usual battalion of soldiers at his back.

"Death, you see," he declared, "is easily arranged."

Death wasn't all the deranged colonel had on his mind either. He produced a land grant signed by King Ferdinand, proclaiming the pueblo de Los Angeles and its surrounding territory were to be turned over to his ownership. Diego could hardly believe what he was seeing, even though he had read the document three times.

It couldn't be true. How could all the land he and his father had owned and worked for decades be taken away with one stroke of a pen? 

Palomarez gave everyone forty-eight hours to move or they would become subject to his rule. Diego could only imagine how harshly he would treat the people who stayed. But how could everyone leave so quickly? Where would they go? Diego saw the colonel did not know nor did he care.

The harshest blow of all came when the mad colonel evicted him and his father from their hacienda, claiming it for his new living quarters. Of course, Don Alejandro did not take the news submissively.

"I am Don Alejandro Sebastian de la Vega," he stated in a loud angry voice. "My father set the first stones for this hacienda. You can't throw me out of my own house!"

Diego and Felipe, along with all the servants, stood in the foyer as Palomarez and four of his armor-plated soldiers blocked the front door. The tense atmosphere was broken by the arrival of Zafira.

"Why, Colonel Palomarez," she came up to greet him. "What a pleasant surprise. What's all this commotion?"

"Señora de la Vega," he drawled congenially. He took the hand she offered him and brought it to his lips. "I am sorry to say that we must meet again under such distressing circumstances."

"Why?" she asked curiously. "What is going on?"

"I'm afraid I now own the land this house is situated upon," explained Palomarez. "I intend to make this hacienda my headquarters." He glanced over at Diego and Don Alejandro and smirked nastily.

"You're throwing us out?" Zafira cried. "But. . . But. . ."

"I am so sorry, Señora," said the colonel with only a drop of apology in his voice. He turned his attention once again to the de la Vega men. "I am giving you one hour to vacate these premises."

He started toward the door but Zafira clutched his arm. "But where will we go?" she asked pleadingly.

"I believe the inn in Los Angeles has a few rooms yet available," suggested Palomarez in a bored tone as he shook off her hand. He took out his pocket watch and glanced at it. "You now have fifty-nine minutes to remove yourselves from my home."

Diego looked over at Felipe. "Go pack your things," he said to the boy slowly. 

"No," said the colonel. "The servants are to remain here until I can hire my own."

Diego and Zafira began speaking at the same time. Diego's "But he's not a servant" was drowned out by Zafira's exuberant "Of course he'll stay behind, he's just the houseboy."

Felipe just stared passively at Zafira but Diego could see the anger in the young man's eyes. It only grew more intense when the lad glanced up at him and realized he was not going to press the matter.

"Come on, Felipe," he said. "You can help me pack." A plan had been forming in his mind and he wanted to relay the details to the youth before he had to leave the place he had called home for most of his life. Putting his hand on Felipe' shoulder, he steered the young man out of the room.

Fifty minutes later, the last of Zafira's luggage had been secured in the back of the wagon. She had insisted on taking nearly everything she owned with her, claiming she was unable to part with any of it. It didn't seem to matter to her that her husband and father-in-law were leaving behind most of their belongings.

Don Alejandro had challenged Palomarez's claim as they left, and somehow had got the colonel to agree to a public forum with an impartial judge to determine the legality of the land grant. 

On the way to the pueblo, Diego tried to erase the expression on Felipe's face from his memory but couldn't. The accusatory look the young man had given him had burned itself into Diego's brain. He only hoped the boy would follow the instructions he had given him when they had been alone in Diego's room, throwing a few articles of clothing into a bag.

"Victoria, do you still have rooms available?" inquired the elder de la Vega as he, Zafira, and Diego stepped into the tavern.

" _Si_ , Don Alejandro," she replied with a grim smile. "I have just two left."

"Only two?" questioned Zafira shrilly. 

Victoria walked behind the bar and took down two room keys. She handed one to Don Alejandro and the other to Diego. " _Si_ , that is all that is left. Why?" She eyed the other woman curiously.

Zafira ignored the innkeeper's inquiry and spun around to face Diego. "I am not sharing a room with you," she hissed under her breath. "You're just going to have to find somewhere else to sleep, because it won't be with me."

Diego had about as much desire to share a room with her as she did with him, but it was a bit humiliating to admit such a thing in front of everyone. His father and Victoria were staring at him and Zafira oddly. 

"It will be fine," he said, glaring at his wife. "I'll go help Miguel with our luggage."

He turned and walked out of the tavern, taking the room key with him. The elder de la Vega joined him and even with his help, it took the three men five trips up the stairs to bring up all the baggage.

"I need a drink," stated Don Alejandro, wiping his brow with a white handkerchief. He went down the staircase once more and sat down at a table where several of his friends sat.

Diego and Zafira stared at each other outside the room they were to share. "Why can't you and your father share the other room?" she whispered crossly.

"How would that look?" he countered.

"Oh, yes," she replied mockingly, "I forgot about the mask of respectability you de la Vegas must wear at all times."

Diego sighed wearily. "I have no intention of sleeping here tonight," he declared dispassionately as his plans for that evening had hinged on him having a room to himself. "I'll be at the livery if you need me."

Zafira laughed scornfully. "Don't hold your breath," she said before she shut the door in his face. Diego turned and saw Victoria was staring up at him from behind the bar. He noted the pitying look in her beautiful brown eyes and averted his face, unable to bear her gaze upon him. 

Diego walked downstairs and sat down with his father and the other caballeros, who were discussing what to do about Palomarez and how to get their lands back.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "Palomarez Returns" written by Robert L McCullough]

_Dios_ , he was dizzy. The combination of the poison and the head first dive through a window had taken its toll on him. Zorro sagged against the cool stone wall of the cave's exit tunnel for a moment. He could scarcely remember how he had made it this far.

Using what strength he had left, he pushed himself upright and staggered the rest of the way through the tunnel. He took off his black sombrero as his head began to sweat profusely. 

Zorro looked up as Felipe ran over to him, then anxiously clutched his arm. "Were you watching?" asked the man in black needlessly, the look of trepidation on the boy's face giving him his answer.

Felipe threw the masked man's uninjured arm around his shoulders and led him over to the laboratory table. Zorro held up the small, brown vial he had nicked from the treasonous colonel. His left shoulder felt as though it was on fire and he could feel as the searing heat crept slowly away from the scratch Palomarez had given him with the poisoned tip of his sword.

He uncorked the bottle and sniffed its contents. No discernible odor. "It appears to have natural origins," he said. "Possibly a refined snake venom." He re-corked the vial.

Felipe pointed worriedly at his shoulder. Zorro could see the fear in the young man's eyes. "Yes, I know," he acknowledged, putting his gloved right hand on the burning cut, ‘it's already inflamed." His world then turned black for a second. Struggling mightily, he forced himself to awareness again. He sat down in a chair he spotted nearby.

"But even the strongest poison has to have an antidote," he said, some of his wits coming back to him. Felipe hopelessly shook his head. "Exactly," he agreed. "It would take months to research all possibilities. By then, I'll surely be dead."

His heart clenched painfully as he watched as Felipe nodded sorrowfully. Looking for a distraction, Zorro noticed a white quill lying on the laboratory table and picked it up. An idea began to form in his head, one that hopefully would lead to his full recovery.

He tentatively touched the end of the quill to his gloved left index finger and felt its prick. "Actually quite sharp, isn't it?" he asked rhetorically.

Felipe looked at him in confusion, which turned to panic as once again. His vision blurred and darkened again. He grabbed Felipe's arm tightly as he took a deep breath and willed himself to stay awake.

"Go down to the river and select a strong, straight thistle reed," he instructed the apprehensive lad, who shook his head, obviously unable to figure out what the man in black was thinking. "Because Felipe," Zorro explained, "we're going to get Colonel Palomarez himself to lead me to the antidote."

He glanced up at the clock on the bookcase behind his desk. "Now, it's nearly sunrise. I must get back to the tavern before my father misses me. Hurry," he urged, patting the youth's arm with as much reassurance as he could muster. They held each other's eyes for a moment and Zorro was relieved to see the concern in the younger man's expression. Maybe there was hope yet for their tattered relationship.

Nodding respectfully, Felipe then ran off to do as he was asked. Zorro sat where he was for quite awhile, trying to stave off the waves of lightheadedness that kept swirling over him. He started removing his costume piece by piece, knowing he needed to hurry if his plan to save his life was to work.

The rest of the morning was a time that came back to Diego in bits and pieces over the following days. He vaguely recalled speaking out at the forum against Palomarez, voicing his suspicions the land grant was the clever work of a infamous forger named Enrique Rodero.

That accusation had drawn the desired response from the mad colonel, as did the quill dart Felipe had shot into the military man's neck. Palomarez had left the tavern immediately in search of the antidote. Diego had to wait several frustrating moments before he was able to go off in pursuit.

The nectar from the prickly pear cactus blossom was one of the sweetest things he had ever tasted. He felt its effects instantaneously.

After extracting a promise from Palomarez to never return to California, he had ridden back to Los Angeles and to the livery where he once again changed from the masked savior of the people to plain old Diego de la Vega.

He walked into the tavern, where the townspeople were still celebrating the return of their property. He wandered over to the table where his father and Felipe sat, the former with a glass of wine in his hand and the latter with a glass of lemonade.

"Diego, have you been asleep all this time?" asked the old don. Diego had told his father he was going to lie down for awhile after Mendoza had declared the land grant was ‘fraudulent and it's also no good'. 

"Sorry, Father," he said, hanging his head as if ashamed. "I guess all this excitement just caught up with me."

"Well, everything turned out all right, thanks to you," Don Alejandro stated proudly. He unsteadily got to his feet, making Diego think that the cup of wine in his hand was not his first. "Let's go home, son."

Diego darted his eyes upward. "Where's Zafira?" he asked. He had not seen her since the day before, right after they had checked into the tavern.

"Went out riding first thing this morning," the elder de la Vega replied. "We'll take her things back to the hacienda with us and leave her a note. She'll be so happy to be back home."

"Yes," said Diego with a sarcastic bite to his voice. "I'm sure she will be."

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - Part of the quote "One man's meat is another man's poison", is an old adage, first recorded in 1576, meaning what is good for one person is bad for another. 
> 
> Palomarez selling the pueblo to the British would have been good for him and the British, the citizens of the pueblo, not so much. Plus Palomarez poisoned Zorro/Diego in this episode, so I wanted to use a poison reference in the title. This one was perfect.


	28. Auld Acquaintance

[parts of the following scene taken from "Master & Pupil" written by Robert L McCullough]

** Three Months Later **

Diego could scarcely believe his eyes as he came around the corner of the tavern. He had been at the blacksmith's shop, having the shoes replaced on their carriage horses. The de la Vegas were certainly wealthy enough to have their own farrier but preferred to give their business to Tomas Zapata, the pueblo's smithy.

He had heard the familiar clash of steel against steel and a bit of panic had come over him. If someone was in desperate need of help, Zorro's things, including his saber, were safely hidden in the cave two miles away. He had left the horses and carriage with Tomas and had sprinted over to see what was going on.

And that's when he saw his old fight master, gleefully fending off three of the garrison's lancers. It took a moment for his brain to register what his eyes were seeing.

"Sir Edmund?" he asked. "What are you doing here?" They had received no letter, no note, no message at all, that the British knight who was both his friend and his father's, was coming to visit them here in Los Angeles. Diego wondered uneasily the why of Kendall's unannounced arrival.

"Defending myself," replied Sir Edmund with a grin splitting his freckled face.

Diego glanced over at Sergeant Mendoza, who also had his sword drawn, but for the moment was letting his lancers take on the skilled swordsman. "Sergeant, there must be some mistake," Diego appealed. "This is Sir Edmund Kendall, my professor from the university."

The stout soldier shook his head. "Even a professor must pay the traveler's tax, Don Diego," he stated officiously.

"Preposterous!" shouted the fight master as he parried two of the lancers's blades. "I'm a British knight!'

"And my men are highly trained lancers," retorted Mendoza.

Sir Edmund's smile grew even bigger. "Well then," he said, "we should have some fun." He took the hat from his head and threw it at the lancers, knocking them backward. One of the soldiers lost his grip on his sword and it landed at Kendall's feet. He kicked it up into the air at the astounded Diego who somehow managed to catch it. 

Diego looked at the weapon in his hand as if it were a snake, poised to strike. Oh, Dios mio, what on earth was he going to do? If he fought as Sir Edmund clearly expected him to do, his masquerade as Zorro could be exposed. If he feigned ineptitude, he feared his old teacher would scorn him.

Deciding a little contempt from an old friend was the lesser of the two evils, Diego awkwardly defended himself against the two lancers who came rushing at him while Sir Edmund took on the other three. After Kendall had neatly dispatched the last of them with a solid punch to the face, he spun around to watch as Diego, breathing a sigh of relief the ordeal was over, tossed the sword into the dirt and surrendered.

His mentor was clearly bewildered at his actions. Diego felt a little ill as Sir Edmund's gaze seemingly tried to penetrate his mind. "Have you forgotten everything?" he asked incredulously. "You were the best student I ever had."

Diego gulped nervously. At least no one save him and Kendall knew just what subject the older man had taught him. He decided the best course of action was to get the fight master out of the pueblo as soon as possible. He brushed aside the blades pointed at him by the two lancers.

"Excuse me," he said politely, walking over to Sir Edmund. Reaching a hand inside his jacket, he felt around for the coins he kept in the pocket there. "Sir Edmund, I'll be happy to pay your traveler's tax."

"You can't be serious," the British knight retorted indignantly.

The sergeant stepped over to join them, sheathing his sword. "Excellent thought, Don Diego," he said with a smile on his round face. "There is no sense in anyone getting hurt. I would have hated to arrest this man."

Diego knew that Mendoza disliked arresting anyone, mainly because of the paperwork he would be then forced to complete. Suppressing a grin of his own, he dropped five pesos onto the soldier's waiting palm.

"Gracias." The sergeant closed his fist over the coins then turned away, marching over to the cuartel. Diego looked apologetically over at Sir Edmund, who was eyeing him inquisitively.

"You'll stay with us at the hacienda?" Diego asked, already knowing the answer. He turned to see a lone suitcase sitting in the dust in front of the tavern porch. "Is that all your luggage?"

The sword master nodded. "When a man reaches my age," he stated with a enigmatic smile, "he learns to travel light."

Fortunately the horses were ready and the smith had done Diego the favor of re-hitching them to the carriage. The two men rode to the hacienda in relative quiet since Diego knew that his father would want to hear everything Sir Edmund had to say as well.

"So this is California," said Kendall after they had traveled about a mile from Los Angeles. "It certainly isn't what I expected."

"No?" inquired Diego. "What did you envision?"

"Oh, I don't know," his companion said, "more trees. . . Deadly savages waiting to take our scalps." He chuckled then became serious. "At least the part about the armed soldiers harassing innocent people is true."

"Unfortunately, yes," Diego conceded. 

"And no one does anything about it?" Sir Edmund asked a little heatedly. "Wasn't this the reason your father wanted you to come home before you completed your education? And does this Zorro fellow Alejandro has written to me about do nothing but wave his sword and talk about injustice?

"Zorro is only one man," replied Diego defensively. "He can't be everywhere."

"A bloody lot of good he does then," snorted Kendall. They lapsed into silence again the rest of the distance to the hacienda.

Don Alejandro was as surprised to see his old friend as Diego had been. "Edmund!" he shouted as the other man alit from the carriage. "What are you doing in California?" He didn't give Kendall a chance to reply as he embraced him with a near strangling hug.

"Do I have to have a reason to come and visit my good friends?" Sir Edmund queried as the elder de la Vega released him.

"No, no." Don Alejandro shook his head. "Come in, come in. You must tell us all about your trip."

"Well, the most exciting part was today when I arrived in Los Angeles," said the British knight with a smile once they were inside the hacienda. "A brigade sergeant tried to extort money from me."

"What?" 

Diego waved away his father's concern. "Oh, the traveler's tax," he explained. "I simply paid it."

Sir Edmund glanced over at Diego. "Most unnecessary," he stated. "You and I could have easily outfought those soldiers."

Don Alejandro started laughing; a little too derisively, Diego thought. "Oh, Edmund," said the old don. "You, yes. But Diego. . . "

Diego decided to jump in before anymore was said about his swordsmanship. "Do we have anything cool for Sir Edmund to drink? He must be parched after his journey."

"How rude of me!" exclaimed the elder de la Vega. "I'll get us some juice." He walked off in the direction of the kitchen.

Waiting under his father was out of earshot, Diego pulled Kendall aside. "May we keep tales of my fencing lessons a secret between us?" he asked earnestly.

Sir Edmund stared at him in confusion. "Diego," he began, "you should be proud of your skill with a sword."

"If word were to get out that I even studied under you," Diego said, shaking his head, "do you know how many young hotheads would try to challenge me?

It was the fight master's turn to shake his balding head. "You'd handle them with ease," he declared proudly.

"But then when would I find time for my scientific studies?" inquired Diego as he led Sir Edmund into the library. "Or to help run this ranch?"

"Here we are, gentleman," said Don Alejandro who came up to them holding two glasses of orange juice. Zafira appeared behind his father, carrying two more. "Sir Edmund, I don't know if you've met my daughter-in-law, Zafira."

"We've met," said Kendall tersely. "Once. In Spain."

" _Si_ ," said Zafira through tight lips. "We have."

"Oh, that's right," said the elder de la Vega as he handed the glasses he held to Diego and Sir Edmund, oblivious to the tension that filled the air. 

Diego closed his eyes as he remembered the only time his sword master had met his wife. It had been at a charity reception to raise money for scholarships, about a week before their abrupt departure for California. He had taken Zafira around to meet all of his professors and she had been perfectly charming to them.

"And this is Sir Edmund Kendall," Diego said as he had introduced the British knight to his wife. "He's my. . ."

"I know who he is," she stated belligerently. "My brother has told me all about him."

"Indeed," said Sir Edmund warily. "What did he say about me?"

"That you're a Royalist through and through," Zafira said. "Even though your own king kicked you out of your own country for dueling illegally."

Diego had stared first at his wife then at his fight master. In the nearly four years he had known the red-haired Englishman, Kendall had never confided in him the reason why he was living in Spain. But then, Diego rationalized with a shrug, he had never asked. 

But how had Ricardo known? Diego wondered as he was once again aware of the hostility his spouse felt toward Sir Edmund as she glared at the other man as they stood in the foyer of the de la Vega hacienda.. And now that he thought about it, he speculated about the duel that his mentor had taken part in that had resulted in his exile from England. Had the other participant been killed? Had the man been someone important? Duels had taken place in Spain all the time and usually, the government rarely intervened unless someone of significance was involved. Diego imagined it was the same in Britain.

"Now then, Señor," Don Alejandro said to Sir Edmund, breaking into Diego's musings, "you must tell me about life at the university. . . and about your chess."

Kendall chuckled at the elder de la Vega's challenge. Diego held up his glass of juice. "To re-acquaintance," he toasted.

His father and Sir Edmund touched their glasses to his. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Zafira was staring at their guest with an expression full of enmity. Then she turned her gaze to him and Diego wasn't surprised he received the same look of hatred.

He only hoped she would behave herself for the duration of Sir Edmund's visit.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "Master & Pupil" written by Robert L McCullough]

It wasn't until the next morning that Diego and Sir Edmund got a chance to cross their sabers together once again. Don Alejandro had gone into the pueblo to pick up a bottle of wine from Victoria at the tavern, a vintage that was one of their guest's favorites.

Zafira had gone off on another of her rides. Diego had no idea where she went when she rode off on horseback after breakfast nearly every day and he wasn't about to ask. To be truthful, he was glad of the respite her absence provided him.

It felt so good to hold his blade in his hand and take on a swordsman who actually tested his skill. He couldn't stop the laughter that rose from within him as his old mentor drove him backward. Diego bumped his back into a post holding up an awning in the courtyard. He quickly rolled to his left as Sir Edmund thrust at his chest. Using the post as a shield, Diego lunged out from the right side then his left before coming out from behind the pillar on and grabbing Kendall by the collar of his shirt and pretended to whack the other man's head up against the post.

Sir Edmund laughed, an impressed look on his face. "You've learned some new moves."

"Practice makes perfect," quoted Diego, wielding his saber cautiously, knowing the cagey old fight master wasn't above striking while his opponent was distracted.

"Only perfect practice makes perfect," the Englishman corrected. He then raised his sword in a salute which Diego returned. 

They battled on for several more minutes, both clearly enjoying themselves immensely. Kendall lunged at Diego, who easily sidestepped the move then grabbed the other man's arm and spun him toward the courtyard wall.

Sir Edmund ducked behind a nearby tree then emerged from it branches brandishing a dagger and wearing a confident grin on his freckled face. Diego darted his eyes around the courtyard and spied a rake leaning up against the wall. In an flash, he had snatched up the gardening tool, used it to press Sir Edmund's left hand which held the dagger up against the opposite wall, and brought up the tip of his saber, placing it on the British knight's chest. 

"Very nice," commented Sir Edmund, his voice full of breathless laughter. "You did remember that lesson."

Diego grinned as he lowered his blade. "‘When truly threatened, use any weapon at your disposal'," he quoted. He set the rake back where he had found it.

"I'll want a rematch," the Englishman said as he slid his dagger back into the waistband of his trousers.  
"It will be my pleasure," stated Diego as they began to walk across the courtyard toward the front door of the hacienda. "If you're going to be in Los Angeles long enough, that is."

Diego watched as a guarded expression came over his mentor's face. "Well, California is such a lovely place," Kendall declared in a tone that didn't quite ring true. "I might just want to stay forever."

The sound of hoof beats approaching the hacienda drew Diego's attention away from his old teacher for a moment. His eyes narrowed as he saw two men riding toward them. "What about your work at the university?" he asked, his gaze never leaving the riders.

"Oh, that's not really any problem. . ." Sir Edmund started to explain as Diego watched as one of the men pulled out something from behind him.

That something turned out to be a rifle. "Look out!" shouted Diego as the sound of the gun going off filled the air. He and Kendall ducked down below the low wall that surrounded the hacienda as the bullet then another flew over their heads.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration- From the line "Should auld acquaintance be forgot," which is from the poem "Auld Lang Syne" by Scottish poet Robert Burns, written in 1788.
> 
> I thought it a fitting title considering Diego and Don Alejandro's renewed acquaintance with their old friend (and mentor in Diego's case), Sir Edmund Kendall.


	29. Good Knight's Loss

[parts of the following scene taken from "Master & Pupil" written by Robert L McCullough]

"Diego, what happened here?" asked Don Alejandro, his voice full of concern. "I thought I heard some shots. Where's Felipe? Where's Zafira?"

The arrival of his father at the front gate of the hacienda gave Diego a reason to turn his eyes away from the abhorrent scene before him. The dead body of a stranger lying in the dirt at his feet. The blood dripping off the end of Sir Edmund's dagger. The grim look of satisfaction the other man wore on his face.

Diego watched as the elder de la Vega climbed down out of the wagon and quickly covered the short distance to where he and Sir Edmund stood.

"Felipe's all right," Diego replied. "He's in town. I don't know where Zafira. . . "

He broke off his words as he saw his wife riding up on her mare out of the corner of his eye. "Oh, Father," she said as she brought her horse to a halt and jumped down from the saddle. "What went on here? Are you all right?" She stepped over to her father-in-law and put her hand on his arm.

Diego pointed to the dead man at his feet. "This man and another tried to ambush us," he impassively answered his father's and his wife's questions. 

"Why would they do that?" asked Don Alejandro as he glanced over at his old friend who was now wiping off his blade. Diego turned his attention to his mentor as well.

"Why _would_ they do that?" he queried a bit angrily. He wanted to know the reason the two men had shot at Kendall and himself. He wanted to know why the fight master had plunged his dagger into his opponent and had urged him to do the same. Bile began to rise in his throat and he had to struggle to force it back down. 

Sir Edmund shook his bald pate. "Politically, I'm afraid I've been a bit naive," he explained.

The elder de la Vega looked askance at his friend. "Edmund," he said thoughtfully, "you haven't turned against the king, have you?"

"Which king?" Zafira inquired with a sneer in her tone. She also stared at the British knight. "You're going to run out of countries to hide in, Señor."

"Zafira, that's enough," said Diego through gritted teeth. 

"I was instructing a group of university students in saber fighting," declared Sir Edmund, "when they were all arrested for revolutionary activities."

Don Alejandro clucked his tongue impatiently. "And you didn't know they were traitors?"

"Traitors and revolutionaries frequently look the same, Alejandro," said Kendall testily.

"You would know," muttered Zafira under her breath. She closed her mouth tightly as Diego glared at her crossly. Sir Edmund continued on, either not hearing her comment or ignoring it.

"I fled Madrid before they could arrest me as well. Without benefit of trial, a price was put on my head." Diego stared over at his mentor and nodded. He, too, knew what it felt like to have a price on his head. It was something for the most part was tucked into the back of his mind and forgotten. But it was always there, dangling over him like the sword of Damocles.

Sir Edmund shook his head again. "I never thought bounty hunters would follow me this far," he said wearily.

"It means you won't even be safe this far from Spain, my friend," Don Alejandro pointed out. Diego put his hand on his fight master's shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. Zafira rolled her eyes.

"Well, I'll let you gentlemen clean up your mess," she said before flouncing back over to her horse and leading it to the stables. 

Diego watched her for a moment then turned his attention back to Kendall. "He's right," he concurred. "You'll have to leave Los Angeles as soon as possible."

Sir Edmund nodded. "Figueroa is like a dog with a bone," he stated. "He's not about to give up his bounty just because his partner is dead. He'll be back."

"I'll go get some of the vaqueros," suggested the elder de la Vega. He glanced down once again at the prone body lying in the dirt before walking off in the same direction as his daughter-in-law.

Diego moved away from Kendall then, going over and set the sword he had been holding up against the courtyard wall. Sir Edmund was still staring down at the man whose death he had caused.

"If I hadn't killed him, Diego," he said, reiterating his earlier explanation, "he would have killed me." He turned his world-weary eyes to Diego. "You have no idea what it's like to be hunted. . . To be a wanted man for no other reason than doing what you thought was the right thing to do."

Mirthless laughter escaped from Diego's lips before he could stop it. Oh, he knew what it was like all too well. To be relentlessly pursued, for his life to be endangered. And for the same reason, for doing the right thing.

"You can laugh?" asked Kendall incredulously. "A man is dead, Diego, and for that I am truly sorry. But I am also glad it is him and not me lying there in the dust."

"I'm sorry, Sir Edmund," Diego said apologetically. "I know you only did what you had to do. In fact. . ."

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of two of the de la Vega ranch hands with a horse and cart, and by the emergence of Zafira from the front door of the hacienda. She was attired in one of the dresses she usually wore into town.

"You're going into the pueblo?" Diego inquired as she pulled on her gloves. "Now?"

Zafira flashed her angry blue eyes at him. "What's wrong with now?" she snapped in reply. "I have an appointment."

It was obvious to Diego that she wasn't about to tell him whom she was meeting nor why. Shrugging, he turned away from her and went to help Tadeo and Miguel with their unpleasant task.

But his wife came up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder. "I was going to take this cart," she said petulantly.

"Well, as you can see," Diego said sarcastically, "it's being used by someone else." He turned and stared coldly at her beautiful face that once again marred by a unattractive frown. "Unless of course, you want to do the honors. . .?"

"You _cerdo_ ," she hissed out between her clenched teeth. She spun away from him. "Miguel, get the carriage ready," she instructed the stable master haughtily.

" _Si_ , Señora." The leather-faced vaquero bowed respectfully. He looked over at Diego, who nodded his acquiescence.

Diego sighed as his spouse followed off after Miguel. Then he, Tadeo, and Sir Edmund lifted the bounty hunter's body into the back of the cart.

Z Z Z

An invitation arrived about two hours later, brought by a smiling and gregarious Sergeant Mendoza. The soldier had gone about how the alcalde was just dying to meet a member of the British peerage. It would be a privilege and a great honor if Sir Edmund and, of course, his hosts, the de la Vegas, could attend the little soiree he was planning that evening at the tavern.

Diego recalled vividly how the last summons to a party from Ramone had turned out. Admittedly, it hadn't actually been the alcalde throwing a birthday party for his sergeant but still. . . He was very uneasy about this sudden gesture of amity from the garrison's commandante. The man hardly ever did anything without expecting something in return. Diego just wondered what Ramone had cooked up this time.

It also bothered him Zafira had returned to the hacienda only a few minutes after the sergeant's arrival, looking very smug and pleased with herself. She immediately retired to her room as the gentlemen planned their next move.

"I think I should go," stated Sir Edmund, before taking a large gulp of wine. "Your alcalde will be suspicious otherwise."

"We could tell him you were called away," Diego suggested. He turned to his father, hoping the older man would agree with him. That he also sensed they would be walking blindly into a trap.

Don Alejandro shook his head. "Called away where?" he asked. "No, I think Edmund is right. We have to go."

"Very well," Diego acquiesced somewhat ungraciously. He turned to leave the library, where the elder de la Vega and Kendall had set up the chess board. 

"Don't worry, Diego," said Sir Edmund. "What's the worst that could happen? The party being a bore?"

He started to laugh and Don Alejandro joined in. Diego walked away, shaking his head. He would just have to be on his guard. 

The next few hours passed all too swiftly for Diego's liking, the hour for the dreaded dinner with Ramón closing in all too fast. He finally made his way to his room to change his clothes, still sick with worry.

After he finished dressing, he walked out to the parlor where he found Zafira, curled up on a settee, reading a book. She had on the same dress she had worn earlier to the pueblo.

"Hadn't you get changed?" he inquired.

"Oh, I'm not going," she replied, not lifting her eyes from her book.

"Why not?"

"I don't feel well," she explained. Diego looked at her closely. She appeared to be the picture of health. In fact, now that he thought about, she had been looking more like her old self, like she had been before the miscarriage.

He shrugged and walked over to the foyer as his father and Sir Edmund emerged from the hallway that led to the bedrooms.

"We should bring something," suggested the elder de la Vega as he fiddled with his tie. "A bottle of wine or. . ."

"A sharp sword," Diego muttered just loud enough for the other men to hear.

"Diego, stop worrying," said Kendall.

"We better get going," said Don Alejandro. A second later, Felipe came through the front door. "Ah, the carriage is ready."

His father and his mentor had exited the hacienda before Felipe looked up at Diego questioningly then surreptitiously slashed a ‘Z' in the air with his right index finger.

"I don't know, Felipe," he said. "I might not have the chance to change undetected." He put his hand on the lad's shoulder. "If there's any trouble, you know what to do."

The youth nodded. They then made their way out to the waiting carriage.

Z Z Z

[most of the following scene taken from "Master & Pupil" written by Robert L McCullough]

Diego decided from now on he should always trust his gut instincts. Sir Edmund sat propped up in a pew inside the church, bleeding profusely from a gunshot wound to the chest, the bullet obviously piercing his fight master's left lung.

He had ripped the decorative ruffle off his best shirt and was pressing it against the wound, hoping to at least stem the blood loss. Sir Edmund looked up at him with eyes that Diego could see were dimming swiftly.

"I never liked a waiting game, Diego," Kendall said as he struggled for air. "Now. . .now is the time to fight."

"Shallow breathing," Diego murmured to himself. "Not much time." He stayed crouched beside his friend for what seemed like hours, holding the now bright red linen to his chest.

A thump against the back door of the church, accompanied by a familiar whinny, drew Diego's attention. Felipe, he thought. He ran to the door, opening it cautiously. Sure enough, Toronado waited just outside the church's gate and a bundle of black clothing rested in the dirt at his feet. He picked it up and carried inside, conflicting emotions welling up inside of him.

He didn't want to leave Sir Edmund alone. But the only way he could get help for the injured man was to ride out as Zorro. Diego went over and quickly checked on Kendall before going into the confessional to change his clothes.

Again, time seemed to slow down as he went to fetch Doctor Hernandez and bring him back to the church. The tussle in the plaza with the garrison's lancers helped to relieve some of the anxiety he was feeling. Once he saw that all the soldiers were lying on the ground, most groaning in pain, Zorro ran inside the church.

One look at the physician's face told him his efforts had been for naught. Zorro thanked the man, who took his bag and departed. Taking off his hat, the man in black knelt down beside Sir Edmund and took his hand.

"Diego?"

The question didn't surprise him. He had seen the fight master watching him defeat the lancers in the plaza. He pulled off his mask, answering the other man's query.

"I thought so," Sir Edmund said, his breathing growing even more shallow. "No one else could have show those combinations I just saw. I taught you well."

"Perhaps too well," commented Diego wryly.

"I'm glad you put my sword to good use."

"Yes, I found my calling," Diego said. It was a bit ironic, he thought, that he, a man who was opposed to violence, would find his vocation in fighting injustice.

"You have unique gifts, Diego," stated his mentor, the pallor in his skin increasing. Diego knew the end was very near. "Never hesitate to use them in the cause of justice."

"I owe so much to you." Diego's voice was laden with sorrow and not just a little guilt.

"Nonsense," said Sir Edmund, his words barely a whisper. "Now go out there and fight the good fight." A moment later, the fight master's eyelids closed and his head fell to one side. Diego knew even without feeling the pulsing beat in the other man's hand cease that his friend was dead.

A tear burned its way down Diego's cheek.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - Part of a quotation by Thomas Mallory - "And much more am I sorrier for my good knights' loss than for the loss of my fair queen; for queens I might have enough, but such a fellowship of good knights shall never be together in no company." It is from Mallory's 1485 work "Le Morte D'Arthur".
> 
> Since Sir Edmund (an English knight) dies in the episode "Master & Pupil," the basis of this chapter, it was the loss of a good knight.


	30. The Stark Truth

A melancholy mood clung to Diego for the next several months following Sir Edmund's death. He couldn't help but feel responsible for his fight master's passing. He should have insisted that they not accept the alcalde's invitation. He had been right about it being a trap. And he wondered often of Zafira's part in the whole matter. Her dislike of the Englishman has been palpable and her sudden trip into Los Angeles after learning he was a wanted man had roused Diego's suspicions. 

Zafira had been indignant when he had tried to question her about her whereabouts that day. "Since when do you care where I go?" she had asked. "You couldn't care less about me. What I do is my own business."

"No, you're quite wrong about that," said Diego through clenched teeth. "You bear the name de la Vega whether you like it or not. Your actions reflect upon both me and my father."

She had considered his words for a few moments before glaring up at him. "So be it," she said sarcastically. "Just what is it you think I did anyway?"

As before, Diego decided to ask her point blank. "Did you turn Sir Edmund over to the authorities?"

She laughed, and just a bit too hysterically for Diego's liking. "Of course not," she declared. "Why would I?

"You hated him," stated Diego. 

Zafira had shrugged her thin shoulders. "So?" she said indifferently. "That doesn't mean I wished to see him dead." She picked up her embroidery hoop. "Your precious Sir Edmund brought about his own demise. I had no hand in it." 

She started to draw her needle through the white cotton fabric but not before Diego had noticed the satisfied smile on her face.

[parts of the following scene taken from "Kidnapped" written by Philip John Taylor]

Diego sighed, trying to clear the tormenting thoughts from his head. He glanced over at his father, who was leading their new bull by a rope as they both rode on horseback. It had been a dull day so far, Diego mused, which was no doubt why his mind had meandered back to its gloomy reminiscences.

"You know something," began Don Alejandro, " I have to tell you this has been a very profitable business trip. I really thought I was going to have to pay an extra two hundred pesos for Señor Toro here." He was grinning as he looked over his shoulder at the big black bull.

The sound of creaking wagon wheels and hoof beats drove from Diego's head whatever he had been about to say. A wagon full of people came around a curve in the road. Diego didn't recognize the driver. 

Evidently his father didn't either. "I don't know that wagon," he declared. He stared at it for a moment or two then whipped around to look at Diego. "It's Victoria and Felipe!"

Diego's heart jumped into his throat as he saw two of the people he loved most in the hands of what upon further inspection appeared to be pirates. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his father was about to call out to the ruthless men, something no doubt that would probably get them both killed. He grabbed the elder de la Vega's arm then raised his own.

" _Hola!_ " he called out, his gaze never leaving Victoria and Felipe. The driver brought the wagon to a rumbling halt. Diego watched as Victoria started to lean forward about to say something that would probably get him and his father killed. But thankfully, Felipe reached over and grabbed her arm, stunning her out of whatever she had been about to blurt out.

" _Buenos dias_ , Señor," Diego greeted the man seated beside the driver, instinctively knowing he was the pirates' captain. "Why are these people being held prisoner?" he asked as casually as he could muster.

"They're no prisoners, my friend," replied the buccaneer. "They're volunteers, seeking their fortunes in my service."

Diego knew the man was lying. Neither Victoria nor Felipe would have volunteered to join this band of cutthroats. Even as upset as Felipe had been with him after he had been kidnapped by the woman claiming to be his mother, he would have never run away. And Victoria. . . Well, he knew why the buccaneers had taken her. He examined at her face carefully, then sighed inwardly with relief. Obviously, they hadn't laid a hand on her as of yet. But who knew how long that would last?

He racked his brain for a moment, desperately trying to think of something that would make the pirates release the two of them. Of course, he was also concerned with the other Los Angelenos in the back of the pirates' wagon. But for the moment, his main worry was to get the señorita and Felipe out of the evil captain's clutches.

"Ah, I see," he finally replied. He pointed at Felipe. "Well, the boy there is the servant of a friend of mine. He's a constant pest. He's of no value to you." Diego ignored the flash of anger in the young man's eyes as he indicated Victoria. "And the woman is a quarrelsome barmaid."

Victoria raised an indignant eyebrow at Diego and he knew he would have to pay for his less than flattering description of her later on. But he would worry about that when the time came.

The pirate captain smiled. "Then they will not be missed!" he exclaimed before breaking into loud guffaws. The other men joined in with their own raucous laughter.

His father turned to look at him with an expression of furious frustration. "Diego!" he ground out as he began to step forward. Diego grabbed onto the elder de la Vega's left arm.

"Let's go!" shouted the leader of the buccaneers as he waved his hand. The wagon started to creak as it moved forward once again. Victoria stared down at Diego as the cart rumbled past, a vexed look on her lovely face. Felipe's countenance was troubled, and once again, Diego knew the trust the two of them shared had been shaken badly.

Don Alejandro watched as the wagon rolled along the dusty road. "Diego?" he asked querulously. "How could you let them get away like that with the buccaneers?" He stepped in front of his son.

Diego's eyes never left the moving wagon. "We would have been shot dead on the spot," he responded stonily. "I have no intention of letting them go," he added, more to himself than to his father. He turned his head and winced inside as he saw the anxiety on the old don's lined face. "Take the bull into town and tell the alcalde what's happened."

"And what are you supposed to do then?" asked the elder de la Vega a bit sarcastically.

"I'll follow them and leave a trail for the alcalde," Diego suggested.

Don Alejandro nodded. "Very well," he acquiesced. "But you be careful and you do absolutely nothing until the soldiers arrive, you understand?

Diego smiled wryly. "I wouldn't think of it," he agreed, crossing the fingers on his left hand behind his back while patting his father's arm with his right. The old don narrowed his eyes at him for a moment then went over and remounted his horse.

Diego waved goodbye as the elder de la Vega rode toward the pueblo, the braying bull in tow. As soon as the other man was out of sight, Diego wasted little time following the pirates' very clear trail.

It was nearly two hours later before the buccaneers brought their little procession to a halt. Diego watched from a nearby hilltop as the passengers of the wagon were pulled out one by one and their hands bound. They were then pushed over to a grassy hillside where they were told to sit down and be quiet.

Diego fumed as the pirates sat on the ground in a circle, passing around several canteens and flasks amongst themselves and offering nothing to their prisoners. He crept a little closer and hid behind a bush, hoping to learn more of the cutthroats' plans. He didn't have to wait long.

"When do we get a go at her?" asked one of the pirates, a big bald man with half of his teeth missing, as he gestured over to where Victoria was sitting on the grass.

"When we recover the treasure," stated the captain before taking a swig from one of the canteens.

"But, Cap'n, it's been six months since I've had me a wench," complained another of the men, who wore an eyepatch and a scraggily beard.

"You've never had a wench," someone muttered nastily. Some of the other pirates laughed.

"It has been a long time, Captain," prompted the bald headed man.

"Yeah." "Aye." The rest of the men chimed in. "The treasure can wait," someone suggested.

The captain got to his feet. "No one lays a hand on her," he announced, drawing out his sword, "until we lay our hands on that gold." He brandished the cutlass menacingly. "She belongs to Captain Henry Stark. Yer scurvy dogs can have her when I'm done with her."

"Aye-aye, Cap'n." "Sorry, Cap'n." The men went back to passing around their flasks.

"What about the boy?" asked one of the older men. Diego could see the eager look upon his face and it made his stomach lurch.

"What about him?" asked Stark as he took a couple steps toward Victoria. 

"Are we taking him with us?"

"Pyle, you dirty bugger," said the big bald man. "Leave off. It's because of you we had to throw the last cabin boy overboard."

"Shut up, Sanchez," said the captain, sheathing his weapon. He turned to the man called Pyle. "Aye, we'll take him with us. Just don't be so hard on this one. We need him to last till we get back to Tortuga."

He then continued walking over to where the lovely innkeeper sat, surreptitiously trying to free her hands from the rope binding them together. Diego watched helplessly as the captain came up behind her and pressed himself up against her back. The man then held out the canteen so Victoria could see it. Diego saw the hope flare up in her beautiful brown eyes just a second before it was doused as the captain poured water from the canteen onto the ground next to her, laughing evilly.

Diego got up from his hiding place and circled around to his left so he was behind where Felipe sat. The lad was working so intently on the knots binding his wrists together he almost didn't notice the first rock Diego tossed at him. The next rock hit the youth on the leg, claiming his complete attention. Diego was relieved to see the smile on the boy's face as he turned around.

Following Diego's mimed instructions, Felipe had his hands untied in a matter of seconds. Diego was waiting with nervous anticipation as the lad bent down to untie his feet.

He smelt the pirate's sour breath just a split second before a sword blade was thrust up against his chest.

Z Z Z

It wasn't until after Zorro had chase the pirates to their ship then he and Felipe had watched them haul anchor and sail away, that Diego really had a chance to speak with the young man.

"Felipe," he began as they rode along. Toronado had been sent off on his own to return to the cave with Zorro's black clothing stashed in the stallion's saddlebags. "I want to thank you for looking out for Victoria."

The youth shrugged his shoulders then pointed at Diego before placing both of his hands over his own heart.

"Yes, I still love her," Diego admitted a bit reluctantly. He turned in his saddle to face Felipe. ""I love her as I've loved no other woman. But I'm married to Zafira and I intend to honor my marriage vows. I want you to know that, Felipe, because it's important you understand that a true gentleman never betrays his wife." 

Felipe nodded he understood. Diego continued on. "As I said before, you are no longer a boy. You're fifteen now, old enough to learn a few things about. . ." He paused, drawing a deep breath. He had been putting off this talk for a while now, telling himself the lad was too young. But obviously that was no longer true.

"Felipe, when a man and a woman fall in love and marry," he said quickly, "there are certain things they do. Things that create children."

Felipe put his hand on Diego's arm to gain his attention, then launched into a series of gestures. "You've seen the horses and cattle in the breeding barns?" Diego interpreted. The young man nodded, his face now covered with a pink flush.

"Well, it's not quite the same," Diego commented wryly. "Listen, Felipe. The reason why I'm bringing this up is because those pirates, they wanted to do things to you and Victoria."

The young man put his hand to his chest, his eyes growing wide. He mouthed the question, ‘me?' Diego nodded.

"Yes," he replied as he and Felipe rode side by side. "I'll go into more details once we get back to the hacienda." He looked up at the sky. "And we'd better hurry. Father will be wondering what's taking us so long." 

It was a couple of days later when Diego walked into the tavern, where he had promised to meet his father for lunch. He shot a quick glance at Victoria who stood behind the bar, pouring glasses of orange juice.

"A quarrelsome barmaid, am I?" 

Diego stopped in his tracks and grimaced. He knew this reckoning would come but he had hoped he could put it off for as long as he could. Like never. He turned and grinned at her awkwardly.

"You know I didn't mean it," he said as he stepped up to the counter. "But you do have my most sincere apologies anyway."

"I know, Don Diego," the lovely innkeeper replied, a smile teasing her pink lips. "You were just trying to free us from those pirates. But you couldn't come up with a better reason, like, oh, I don't know, I was your sister or something?"

Diego chuckled. " _Si_ , that probably would have been a bit more flattering," he concurred. "I was just so stunned to see both you and Felipe with those buccaneers. I just said the first thing that popped into my head."

"So you really _do_ think I'm a quarrelsome barmaid?" inquired Victoria.

"No," stated Diego firmly. "I think of you as someone important to me that I didn't wish to see get hurt." 

As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could have them back as they caused Victoria to stare up at him, her face brimming with curiosity.

"I'm important to you?" she asked carefully.

"Yes, of course, to both my father and me," he covered quickly. "You are a dear friend of the de la Vegas." 

"Oh," Victoria said with a perturbed expression.

Diego turned his face away and waved over at Don Alejandro, who was sitting at a table on the other side of the tavern. "There's my father," he announced nervously. "I'd better go see what he wants."

Not daring to meet her eyes and cursing himself under his breath, Diego moved away from the bar and walked toward the elder de la Vega.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - Use of the word ‘stark' in the title is from the name of the pirate captain, Captain Henry Stark. 
> 
> The "truth" is from the varying degrees of the truth Diego shares with several characters in this chapter, most notably, almost slipping up and telling Victoria how he really feels about her.


	31. A Friend Indeed

Two months later, Zafira stepped into the doorway of the study as Diego and his father were looking over their cattle breeding records. They both turned their attention to her, Diego noting the elder de la Vega smiled happily at his daughter-in-law. He knew his own countenance was less welcoming

" _Hija_ , come in," the old don greeted her warmly. "Do you need something?"

Zafira walked into the room, holding out a thick sheaf of vellum. "It's my friend," she began, "Amanda Herrera. She's written that she and her father should be arriving in Los Angeles any day now."

"And you wish her to visit?" asked Don Alejandro indulgently. "Zafira, my dear, you know you don't need my permission to have a guest. This is as much your home as it is mine."

" _Gracias_ , Father," she said demurely. She flicked a hostile glance at Diego before returning her gaze upon the elder de la Vega. "Señor Herrera is going to be surveying territory from here to Monterey." She held out the letter to her father-in-law and pointed to one of the pages. "Amanda worries that she'll be stuck in some shabby little inn while her father is completing his work for the government."

"The tavern in Los Angeles is entirely respectable," declared Diego, not quite keeping the anger from his tone as he felt the need to defend Victoria's business. "And it definitely isn't shabby."

Zafira rolled her eyes at him. "That's beside the point," she responded argumentatively. She looked up at Don Alejandro beseechingly. "She can stay here, with us, while her father does his survey?" she queried.

"I don't see why not," replied the old don. "Any amiga of yours will surely be a lovely addition to our hacienda."

" _Gracias_ , Father," Zafira said before kissing his leathery cheek. "I'll write her a note immediately."

She turned to leave the room but not before tossing one last antagonistic glance at her husband. He just stared at her passively and she curled her lips into a triumphant smile.

Diego shook his head as he watched her walk out the door. What was she up to now? He had never heard mention of this friend of hers before. But then, he told himself, he had known Zafira such a short time before they married, there was probably more things he didn't know about his wife than the meager handful he did. 

He had the feeling he was about to learn more about her than he ever wanted to know.

Z Z Z

Not quite a week later, Señorita Herrera and her father, Don Patricio Herrera, arrived at the de la Vega hacienda. Diego watched as his wife and her friend embraced, kissing each other's cheeks. He still thought it strange Zafira had never mention the woman's name until only five days previously.

Don Alejandro joined them in the foyer and Zafira introduced him to Señor Herrera and his daughter. Then she turned to Diego, who was lounging against an archway, his arms crossed over his broad chest.

"And this is my husband, Diego," she said, managing to maintain a polite veneer. "Diego, this is my best friend, Amanda Herrera."

Pure undiluted lust hit him like a punch. He understood now why Zafira had not introduced her friend to him while they had been courting. Amanda Herrera was beautiful, perhaps the most classically beautiful woman Diego had ever seen. 

She had bright blue almond shaped eyes with long dark lashes. Her lips were like soft pink rose petals. Her face was a perfect oval, her skin a smooth alabaster. And her body could tempt a saint, which he definitely was not.

Diego drew a deep breath before taking the señorita's proffered hand and placed a courtesy kiss upon it. " _Hola_ ," he said in what he hoped was a detached tone. "Zafira has told us so much about you." The deliberate lie hung heavy on his lips.

"Has she?" inquired the young woman, gazing at him through her thick dark lashes as she curtsied shallowly before him. He realized he was still grasping her hand and quickly let go of it.

He could feel the heat of his spouse's glare boring into the back of his skull. "Come, Amanda," she said, coming forward and linking her arm with the other woman's. "I'll show you to your room."

" _Gracias_." Amanda gave Diego another assessing look before turning her full attention to Zafira. "You didn't tell me your husband was so gorgeous," she said sotto voce as they walked toward the bedrooms.

Diego was unable to hear his wife's reply as the women disappeared from sight. Shaking his head as if to clear its thoughts, he tried to listen to the conversation between his father and Don Patricio about the difficulties of obtaining accurate surveys but his mind kept wandering. 

Was he one of those men who could never be true to one woman? If, by some miracle, he ever got the chance to be with Victoria, would he soon tire of her charms as he had with Zafira's? He recalled with a grimace he had been relieved when his mistress had broken off things between them after only eight months, because she had no longer fascinated him as she had when they had first met.

Z Z Z

It was at dinner later that evening that Diego realized another reason Zafira had never mentioned her friend, other than the fact she and her father had left Madrid five years earlier. Amanda Herrera was a woman who wanted; no, demanded; the attention of every male in the vicinity. She sat at Don Alejandro's right and flirted with him throughout the entire meal. Diego sat to her right, as far away from her as the table would allow. Amanda noticed the distance he had placed between them and would smile over at him knowingly from time to time.

The beautiful señorita was even charming to the masculine servants, who all blushed at the unfamiliar attention. After they had retired to the library after everyone had finished eating, Felipe came hesitantly to the room's entrance, clutching some papers in his hands.

"Oh, he's so adorable," gushed Amanda in a loud whisper to Zafira. "Who is he?"

"Just the houseboy," replied Zafira dismissively. "He's a deaf mute," she added in a warning tone.

Amanda just shrugged. "He's still cute," she declared to her friend as they sat next to each on the settee. She glanced over to where Diego was standing next to Felipe as he looked over the youth's essay on the American Revolution.

Diego felt his body tighten under the scrutiny of her gaze. He was going to have to keep on eye on his spouse's dear amiga, he thought. She was a woman not to be trusted. He put his hand on Felipe's shoulder and guided the young man away from the library.

He had convinced himself his reaction to the beautiful Señorita Herrera was due to the fact he hadn't had sex for nearly two years. That his body was just responding to her because of pure animal instincts. At least, that was what he kept telling himself.

The next morning, Señor Herrera departed the hacienda to join up with his surveying crew. Zafira and Amanda decided to go into Los Angeles so the newcomer could see the ‘quaint little village' where her friend now lived. Diego and Felipe accompanied the ladies into town.

The women wended their way through the market stalls scattered throughout the plaza. Diego made his way to the tavern and thought Felipe was following him but when he turned to look over his shoulder, the young man had disappeared. Diego shrugged then stepped inside the bustling inn.

Several of his father's friends were there and they engaged him in a conversation about that year's beef prices. Diego's attention, however, kept drifting over to where Victoria was working behind the bar. Nearly an hour had passed when Zafira and Amanda walked through the front doors of the tavern. Diego was a bit astonished to see his wife as she rarely set foot inside Victoria's establishment. It, however, was no surprise her friend headed straight toward him and the other caballeros.

Amanda wasted little time in charming the older gentlemen. Zafira stood to one side, a unbecoming pout on her face. After a few moments, Diego wandered over to where Mendoza and several other lancers were having a rather raucous time at a nearby table.

[parts of the following taken from "The Tease" written by Robert L McCullough]

Unfortunately, after Diego offered to buy the soldiers a round of coffee, the stout sergeant set his eyes on the flirtatious Señorita Herrera.

"Who. . . Who is that?"the bemused lancers asked as he got to his feet.

Diego sighed. "That's Amanda Herrera. She's staying with us while her father surveys unclaimed range land." 

"She is a princess. . . A dream. . ." murmured Mendoza. Diego was dismayed to see that the sergeant's gaze was glassy as he walked over to the señorita. There would be no warning him about the señorita's coquettish nature.

He watched with a pitying expression as the soldier introduced himself to Amanda, only to have a younger, more handsome lancer cut in and sweep the young woman away. Diego went over to commiserate with the sergeant.

"But he's only a private," stated a nonplused Mendoza as he watched Amanda and the other lancer chatting animatedly with each other on the other side of the room. 

Victoria reached her hand across the bar and patted him on the shoulder. "Perhaps some fresh tamales would help?"

Zafira rolled her eyes dismissively. "Food is the last thing he needs," she declared, looking the portly soldier up and down, her gaze lingering on his prominent belly. 

Victoria's face took on a hurt expression. "That was uncalled for," said Diego to his wife. "Apologize."

"You're my husband," Zafira fired back at him. "Not my jailer." With that, she spun around and flounced out of the tavern.

Diego shook his head wearily. "I'm sorry. . ." he began to say.

"It's all right, Don Diego," said Victoria sympathetically. " _You_ did nothing wrong." She glanced over at Sergeant Mendoza. "He didn't even notice."

Victoria's words were reinforced by the lancer's preoccupied sigh. "She is so beautiful," he said dreamily.

"Persistence is the key to genius, Sergeant," Diego suggested, knowing if the soldier was patient, Amanda Herrera would eventually be willing to toy with his affections. "Try again." He patted Mendoza on the shoulder.

"No, Don Diego," said the soldier, now with a determined countenance. "I have other plans."

Z Z Z

Diego was pensive all the way back to the hacienda once he found out Mendoza's plans included making Private Sanchez, Amanda's brash suitor, perform many hard and disgusting tasks, like cleaning out the latrines. And against his better judgement, he had acquiesced to the sergeant's plea for help in wooing the young lady.

At least she and Zafira had decided to stay in town for the afternoon while he instructed Mendoza in the finer points of courting a woman. A subject, he admitted, about which he was not all that knowledgeable.

Which was how Diego found himself later that evening skulking in the darkness of his own courtyard, listening to Luis Ramone inform Amanda Herrera of all the reasons why she should marry someone she had known for less than a day.

He didn't know whether to laugh or to be ill. The alcalde was being a pompous ass. But even so, the señorita was sitting there on the stone bench, smiling prettily as Ramone pleaded his inane suit. Diego only hoped the long-winded commandante would get on with it before the good sergeant showed up to take his turn to court his wife's friend.

Frankly, Diego was a bit surprised that there wasn't a queue of men stretching the two miles from the pueblo to the hacienda, all desperately waiting to win the hand of the fair Amanda.

[most of the following taken from "The Tease" written by Robert L McCullough]

Diego had to refrain from making a rude noise. Then he heard someone whistling as they drew closer. Then he heard the yowl of a cat, then Mendoza's voice as he apologized to said cat.

_Oh Dios_ , the sergeant had arrived and the alcalde had not yet departed. 

"Señorita Amanda," the soldier said. Diego shuddered as he listened to the sounds of a wet kiss he hoped was being placed on the young woman's hand. "I have come to tell you of my feelings."

"Do come in, Sergeant." Amanda's voice sounded quite pleased. No doubt she was deriving some kind of twisted gratification in having two men prepared to fight over her. Diego furtively moved behind a post that gave him a clear view of the tense tableau.

He watched as Amanda led Mendoza to where Ramone was now standing. Despite the darkness, he saw the shock register on the lancer's face. Even five feet away, Diego could feel the tension in the air.

"I think you two know each other, don't you?" the señorita asked coyly.

Diego waited anxiously as the alcalde fumed and sputtering, finally threatening his subordinate with a long march the following day before he made his exit. Now he prayed that Mendoza would not forget the lessons he tried to teach him earlier that day. Surreptitiously, he signaled the sergeant who saw him behind the nearby pillar and nodded.

"Her eyes," Diego hissed as Mendoza had just stood there for several minutes, his mouth gaping open and closed like a fish's. Diego groaned inwardly as the other man compared the señorita's eyes to the dried-up lake outside the pueblo.

"Her lips. Tell her about her lips," whispered Diego. And winced for the poor sergeant as the heartless Amanda told him that flowers made her sneeze after he had told her that her lips were like rosebuds in the early spring.

Sensing the soldier's despair, Diego murmured, "Tell her how you feel."

Mendoza stuttered and stammered then very obviously peered over to where Diego was hiding. The señorita leaned over and her eyes lit up excitedly.

"Don Diego," she purred as she sashayed toward him. "What are you doing out here?"

Diego gulped nervously before glimpsing a basket of flowers hanging to his right. He started fiddling with them. "Oh, I was just doing a little gardening, that's all," he stated idiotically.

"At night?" questioned Amanda, her voice full of disbelief. No doubt she thought he was another besotted fool, ready to grovel at her feet. Which he had no intention of ever being. He hoped.

"Oh, that's the best time for my night-blooming. . ." he started to say casually, but then with an edge of panic as he had no idea what kind of flowers were growing out of the basket. He plucked one out and looked at it. "Geraniums," he said as he identified the blossom.

Amanda's sultry stare told him that she wasn't buying his story for a second. 

"I have a good job!" interrupted the sergeant. "With excellent benefits! I would make a good husband!"

Diego came over and stood beside Mendoza. "What he really means to say it that his feelings for you lie beyond the tangible or physical realm, Señorita." Unwittingly he stared deeply into her eyes, losing himself in their blue depths, forgetting about his wife, the man standing beside him, and even the woman he truly loved. "His love for you comes from the heart, from the soul."

"That was exactly what I was going to say," Mendoza piped in, breaking the spell the bewitching woman had wove around Diego.

Amanda stared at him, her bosom heaving. "Are you sure you speak for him?" she asked breathlessly.

"Absolutely," declared Diego, his own heart pounding erratically as he glanced over at the soldier. "His feelings entirely. I just run off at the mouth. I. . ." 

He handed the sergeant the flower he had been holding before he said anything else he would regret. Going back to fiddle with the basket of flowers, he watched as a grinning Mendoza handed the geranium to Amanda, whose gaze kept sliding Diego's way.

Which was why he shouldn't have been shocked that when he went to his bedroom at midnight, he found Amanda Herrera standing there, clad in only a thin silk robe.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - Part of the quotation "a friend in need is a friend indeed" which can also be read as "a friend in need is a friend in deed." There are several sources and versions of this quote, reaching as far back as the 3rd century BC. 
> 
> Amanda Herrera was in need of a place to stay in the episode "The Tease" (2x04). In this story, I have made her be a friend of Zafira and a temptation to Diego. So ‘a friend indeed.'


	32. A Snake in the Grass

"What are you doing here?" Diego whispered as he quickly closed his bedroom door. He tried to avert his eyes but it was too late. He had already glimpsed the long shapely legs revealed by the thigh-high gap of her wrapper and the dark areolas of her breasts showing clearly through the thin pink silk. His manhood began to swell uncomfortably.

"Oh, come now, Diego," she replied confidently. "We both know that little performance you gave tonight was all for the sergeant's benefit."

"What on earth are you talking about?" queried Diego. He glanced over to the door that connected his room with Zafira's. "Your _best friend_ is right next door. What do you think she would say if she found you here?"

Amanda shrugged indifferently as she took a step toward him. "She told me that she no longer sleeps with you," she stated. "So I doubt she would care."

"But I would," he replied through gritted teeth. "I'm not interested, Señorita, in what you have to offer."

She lowered her eyes pointedly to the front of his trousers which was straining to contain its contents. "I think that," she drawled, "is a very big lie, Señor. I'd say you were very interested."

Diego took a deep breath and tried to will away his erection. "Nevertheless," he said, more angry with himself than with her, "I'm married and I intend to remain faithful to my wife."

Amanda shook her head pityingly. "She doesn't love you," she stated. "She told me she never did."

"She told you that?" Diego asked, a bit stunned that Zafira would air her grievances to someone she hadn't seen for five years. He took a step toward the scantily clad young woman. "What else did she say?"

"Nothing," Amanda responded. She toyed with the belt of her robe and the edges of the slinky garment fell apart a little more, giving him an excellent view of her bountiful cleavage. It took every ounce of Diego's willpower not to take the bold señorita into his arms and kiss her until they both couldn't see straight.

Again he wondered at the feelings his wife's friend stirred up inside him. Was it because he had been celibate for so long, or was there something deeper? Something beyond the obvious lust he felt for her.

Diego shook his head in a vain attempt to clear his thoughts. Amanda stared at him curiously, still fiddling with her robe's belt. The diaphanous silk slipped just a bit more, displaying the puckered nipple of her right breast.

"Diego, _por favor_ ," she murmured huskily, taking a step toward him. "Don't lie to me or to yourself anymore. You desire me. I can see it in your eyes." The fabric slid again, exposing her left breast. He groaned in frustration, as the demons in his head battled each other. He closed his eyes to the lure of her bared bosoms as his mouth ached to suckle them.

The graze of her hand against his stomach made him inhale sharply. Oh, _Dios mio_ , he must fight this, he must fight her, he scolded himself. If he didn't care that he would be committing adultery, he should at least be concerned he would be betraying the woman he professed to love. Diego tried to conjure up a picture of Victoria; her beautiful smile, her lovely face, her glittering dark eyes. Unfortunately, it only made his aching even more excruciating.

The vision disappeared altogether as Amanda began to undo his trousers. He attempted to push her nimble fingers away, but she thrust her body against his and his hands landed on the bare flesh of her chest instead. Somehow she had managed to unbutton his shirt without him noticing it and he felt her skin on his.

"Don't fight it, Diego," she whispered before kissing him, plunging her tongue into his mouth. He stilled for only a second before entwining his tongue with hers. His hands seemed to move of their own accord, fondling her lush breasts.

_This is wrong_ , he admonished himself as his knees trembled, so very, very wrong. He should push her away, tell her to stop, send her back to her room. But instead, he continued to kiss her, to taste the sweetness of her lips while he felt like he was spinning out of control.

She pulled away from him. "Come," she whispered, a siren's smile on her lovely face. Diego saw that she was naked now, her robe a puddle of pink silk on the floor. She took his hand and led him over to his bed. Suddenly the enormity of the wickedness he was about to perpetrate slapped him in the face.

"No," he rasped, snatching his hand from her grasp. He bent over and plucked up her silk robe from the floor then handed it to her. "Cover yourself," he demanded a bit harshly. "And leave. Now."

Amanda slipped the wrap over her shoulders. "Diego, _por favor_ ," she said seductively. "You want this as much as I do."

Diego shook his head. "Go. Now," he ground out, straining to hold onto the reins of his self control as Amanda took her time closing the robe and tying its belt. 

"You had your chance, Diego de la Vega," she stated icily. "You'll be sorry you didn't take this one."

"I'm already sorry," he replied. "Sorry I didn't toss you out the minute I found you here." If he had, he wouldn't be feeling this pent-up frustration vibrating throughout his whole body.

Amanda turned and flounced out of his room, hopefully going back to her own. Dear Lord, he had nearly had intercourse with her, his wife's best friend, a woman he had no feelings for but lust. He had been a hair's-breadth away from committing adultery. It was bad enough that he already loved a woman other than Zafira, but this. . .

Another thought struck him then. What if Zafira and Amanda had plotted this little seduction? What if her friend was supposed to lure him into a compromising position so his wife could catch them together?

Diego sank down on his bed, suddenly extremely weary. He had about all he could take of Zafira and her nonsense. But, unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about it. He had taken vows he intended to keep. He remembered then the promise he would be faithful to his shrew of a wife, the one he had made to Felipe (and to himself) just a couple of months earlier. 

_Madre de Dios!_ He bolted up into a sitting position, remembering what the youth had told him before dinner the previous evening. That he had seen two bandits rob a man just outside the pueblo.

Diego had meant to ride out as Zorro, to go out and track down the bold thieves. A plan that had flown out of his head, along with his common sense, it seemed.

Sighing wearily, he rose up off of the bed then crept out of his room and through the silent hacienda.

Z Z Z

Diego was extremely glad a week later when Amanda Herrera left Los Angeles with her father and her new fiancé, a very handsome young man named Antonio, whose father was the biggest sheep rancher in Alta California. Someone with looks and money. The very two things that Sergeant Mendoza lacked.

He still burned with anger over what Amanda had done to the poor sergeant. Accepting his proposal of marriage after he had rescued her (with a little help from Zorro) from the bandits who tried to rob the de la Vega hacienda. Then she had cruelly flaunted her new novio in front of the starry eyed soldier, telling him she had a moment to think about their engagement and had changed her mind.

It was about a week later when a letter arrived from Don Patricio, inviting them all to his daughter's wedding in Ensenada in a month's time. . "Oh, we must go," Zafira exclaimed excitedly as she showed the missive to Don Alejandro that evening at dinner.

"Of course, _hija_ ," her father-in-law replied. "We should be able to take a week off next month, shouldn't we, Diego?" 

"I'm not going," Diego stated baldly as he placed his napkin on his lap.

"Why not?" asked his father. "It would be rude if you don't go."

"And what she did to Sergeant Mendoza?" inquired Diego crossly. "That was acceptable behavior?"

Zafira laughed scornfully. "You really didn't think she was going to marry that oaf of a sergeant, did you?" 

"Mendoza may have his faults," Diego ground out. "But he also has a kind heart that your friend trampled all over without a second thought."

"Since when did you start caring so much for the alcalde's lancers?" his wife demanded. 

"They're just men following orders," Don Alejandro answered, echoing Diego's very thoughts. He looked over at his daughter-in-law. "You know what your amiga did wasn't very nice, my dear."

"Fine," said Zafira. She jumped up from her chair and fled the dining room, taking her letter with her. His father glanced over at Diego and shrugged.

Later that night as Diego was unbuttoning his shirt as he prepared to go to bed, the door leading to Zafira's room opened and she stepped through it.

"What do you want?" he asked ungraciously, doubting she was there for a conjugal visit.

"I want to know why you really don't want to go to Amanda's wedding," she stated.

Diego shook his head. "I already told you. . ."

"Oh yes, the poor sergeant," she interrupted sarcastically. "But that's only part of it, isn't it?"

He stared at his wife, trying to keep his expression indifferent. "I don't know what you're talking about," he replied.

"I think you do" she said a bit indignantly. 

"All right," he conceded, deciding to tell her just what a trollop her dear friend was. "She came to my room uninvited, stripped naked then tried to seduce me. But luckily for you, I threw her out," he added sardonically. He gave his wife an assessing look and saw that his announcement didn't shock her at all. "You were in on it, weren't you? You wanted me to sleep with her, didn't you?"

""How dare you?" she screeched. She raised her right hand, no doubt intending to slap him. But Diego caught her wrist before she could. "Let go of me!" she demanded.

"Not until you tell me the truth," he said calmly. He did slacken his grip on her, however, not wanting to unintentionally injure her.

Zafira wrenched her arm out of his grasp. "I'm tired of this," she hissed. "I'm tired of you and your ridiculous accusations. You want the truth?" she taunted, tossing her head back. "I'll tell you the truth. I hate you with every fiber of my being. I hated it every time you ever touched me. I hate California. I hate this hacienda. I hate that boy you're so unnaturally fond of. I even hate your father. He's nothing but a daft old fool."

Most of her declarations were no surprise to him, but that last one dumbfounded him. She had always been so affectionate with the elder de la Vega. And he knew the old don doted on her. It would devastate Don Alejandro if he knew his beloved daughter's loving attitude was all just a sham.

"Then why did you marry me?" he queried, finally asking the question that had plagued him for months.

Zafira just glared at him. "I had my reasons," she said through tight lips. She took a step backward. "Good night, Diego."

"What reasons?" he asked, following as she walked over to the door. "Zafira, what reasons?"

She ignored him, shutting the door in his face. He heard the key turn in the lock. Dammit, he thought. At that moment, he would have paid an enormous sum of money to learn what her motives had been for marrying him. Sighing, he turned away from the door, knowing he would not get much rest that night.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "Sanctuary" written by Tim Minear]

Over the next few months, Diego found himself in all sorts of entanglements that took his mind off his estrangement from his wife. They rarely spoke to each other, and indeed, he saw no more than an occasionally glimpse of Zafira. His father, still blissfully unaware of her true feelings, had escorted her to the wedding, Diego remaining steadfast in his refusal to go. When she was at home, she went out riding nearly every day for hours on end. It left him free to continue with his own pursuits, not the least of which was his crusade for justice. 

A group of men, interested in claiming the six thousand peso bounty now on his head, had been pestering him for the better part of a month. Zorro had been able to elude them easily for the most part. Until this morning, the man in black thought to himself, gritting his teeth as he cut his dagger twice into his right forearm.

It was his own arrogance that had caused him to be bitten by a rattlesnake that had been hiding in the grass. If he had been paying attention to where his whip had landed instead of slashing a ‘Z' into the jacket of the last humiliated bounty hunter before sending him on his way.

He sucked as much of the poison from his arm as he could but he could still feel the effects of the venom starting to course through his body. Help, he told himself, he needed to get help. And fast. He made his way over to where Toronado was waiting nervously, obviously sensing his master's distress.

But Zorro hadn't stayed on the stallion's back for very long, sliding off onto the ground after they had traveled only a short distance. His right arm was throbbing painfully. Pushing himself up off the ground with his good arm, he patted at Toronado with his injured one.

"Go home, boy," he urged, giving the Andalusian another pat. "Go on."

Toronado whinnied loudly then galloped away. Zorro then crawled over to where his saber had fallen out of its scabbard. He quickly scanned the area and saw a farm house and a barn about a mile away. Gritting his teeth, he hoisted himself up to his feet and started walking, using his saber as a make-shift cane.

What a twist of fate, he laughed bitterly as he stumbled along. To once again be confronted by a snake in the grass, only literally this time. Though his encounter with his wife's immoral friend might be better likened to clasping a viper to one's bosom.

He winced at the bad analogy as an image of Amanda's breasts leapt into his head. Then his world darkened for a moment and he found himself down on his knees. He rose back up and trudged onward.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "Sanctuary" written by Tim Minear]

Zorro woke with a start and for a few minutes his eyes had trouble focusing on his surroundings. Then he noticed little beams of sunlight, filled with dancing dust motes, shining through cracks between rough-hewn boards.

The barn. He now vaguely remembered reaching the farm and seeking sanctuary in its barn. He wasn't entirely sure, but he thought he was on the property of one Alicio Turron. Who, unfortunately, was the bounty hunter he had embarrassed only a short while ago.

The man in black then heard voices coming from outside and the sound of feet hitting the ground. Dios, Señor Turron must be back. Using the wall at his back, he eased himself up into a standing position, then looked around for a place to hide. A gasp of pain escaped his lips as he bumped his injured arm against a stall railing.

A woman stepped into the barn as Zorro covered his wounded forearm with his hat before moving again. The woman, undoubtedly Señora Turron, spun around and looked straight at him.

"Zorro!" she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with excitement. Then he watched as a dark shadow passed over their brilliant blueness. She tossed a glance over her shoulder. "My husband. . ."

"I know," he replied, feeling his strength starting to drain away. "We've met. Don't be frightened."

"What are you doing here?" she asked in a conspiratorial whisper. "He's in the house."

"Call him if you must do so," he said through clenched teeth. "I could have killed him. You saw my signature. But I'm not a man to take a life so recklessly, in spite of what you might have been told."

"All I know is that the bounty on your head now stands at six thousand pesos."

Zorro nodded. "And that is why he hunts me down. I should go." He took a step forward but a wave of dizziness swept over him and he stumbled into a post supporting the barn's roof. The señora rushed over and saw his arm as his hat fell away from it.

"Oh, you're hurt!"

"A rattlesnake," he said, breathing heavily. He realized he was drenched with sweat, yet felt chilled to the bone. "I tried to purged the wound but the bite went too deep."

The next thing he knew, the woman had hustled him over to a dark corner of the barn and was unbuttoning his shirt, saying something about him being soaking wet and burning up. He swallowed and the buzzing in his ears stopped, allowing him to listen to her words.

"Any stressful activity will rush the venom through your body," she declared, pulling off his damp shirt then draping a blanket about his shoulders. "I'll prepare something for your wound when I can."

" _Gracias_." He sagged in relief against the hay bales behind his back. _Gracias a Dios_ , she wasn't going to alert her husband to his presence. There were good women in the world, he thought drowsily. They were just hard to find. His eyes drooped closed as oblivion overtook him.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - A snake in the grass is defined as a treacherous person, especially one who pretends to be a friend, or a concealed danger
> 
> This metaphor for treachery, alluding to a poisonous snake concealed in tall grass, was used in 37 BC by the Roman poet Virgil. It was first recorded in English in 1696 as the title of a book by Charles Leslie.
> 
> I thought this was the perfect title for this chapter, first with Amanda's attempted seduction of Diego, then Zorro encountering a rattlesnake near the end.


	33. To Catch a Fox

[parts of the following scene taken from "Sanctuary" written by Tim Minear]

"Magdalena!" a irritated male voice shouted. "Magdalena, did you fix my jacket yet?"

Zorro slowly roused himself from his deep slumber. He could hear his angel of mercy speaking to her spouse in low, reassuring tones but couldn't make out her words.

_Magdalena_. Her name was Magdalena. A wistful smile touched his lips. His mistress's name had been Magdalena. _Condesa Magdalena del Paseo_. The daughter of a very rich and powerful man in Madrid and the widow of an even richer and more powerful husband. She had been a woman of wealth and prestige who could afford to thumb her nose at convention, like taking young university students as her lovers.

With her name on his lips, Zorro drifted off back to sleep. He awoke again when he heard a metallic clang near the vicinity of the farmhouse. Trying to adjust his vision to the mottled lighting of the barn, he searched for his saber. He spied it about two feet away, partially hidden by his cape.

It was just as well he didn't have time to reach for it as it was Magdalena who entered the barn, carrying a cloth covered bucket. The stench of its contents assaulted his nostrils. Obviously the promised remedy for his snake bite. She smiled at him a little uncertainly as she knelt down beside him and pulled the cloth off the bucket. He held out his right arm and Magdalena began to daub the foul ointment onto the wound.

"You'll feel stiff for awhile," she said as she continued to pat her fingers on his arm. "And I know the smell isn't pleasant, " she added with a slightly teasing grin. "But you'll thank me in time."

"I thank you now," Zorro said as he felt the medicine taking away some of the pain. "You're very kind, Magdalena."

She looked up at him in surprise. "You know who I am?" she asked with a hint of nervousness.

"Your husband called you earlier," he explained, and watched as her fear disappear as quickly as it had come. "It's a lovely name," he declared. "I once knew another lady named Magdalena. She had the most beautiful blue eyes."

This Magdalena blushed brightly as she smiled shyly. He noted she was about the same age as his Magdalena had been. She had been nearly thirty when the then twenty-one year old Diego had been introduced to her at a charity ball at the university. His amigo, Miguel, had presented her as his second cousin by marriage. It had been nearly a week and quite a bit of mutual flirtation later before she had relieved Diego of his virginity

A wistful smile crossed over Zorro's masked face. She, too, had had the most radiant blue eyes. A man could lose himself in them, and Diego had. But the passion and fire had died out within months. It wasn't until later Diego had learned that Magdalena rarely kept a paramour longer than six months. And he had lasted nearly eight. It had been a small measure of pride to his ego. 

Unfortunately, he had no more time to dwell on his first lover as Magdalena's husband walked into the barn with his sword drawn. "El Zorro," Alicio said angrily.

"Alicio!" exclaimed Magdalena as she got to her feet. 

"Silence, woman."

"Señor. . ." Zorro began to say as he rose up to his knees.

"The dutiful wife and the trusting husband are working at cross purposes," Alicio interrupted. The man in black cringed at the accusation of betrayal the other man had thrown at his wife. She was only helping a man in trouble, not tossing aside her marriage vows. She should not be made to feel guilty.

And indeed, tears began to form in her sapphire eyes. "Alicio, no," she cried out, the hurt in her voice obvious.

"No more words!" declared Alicio as he raised his sword toward Zorro's bare chest. "Only action!"

Zorro, glad he had located his saber earlier, reached over to grab it, instinctively using his right arm. Which was a mistake, he found out a second later as he flinched when shooting pains raced all the way up his arm to his shoulder.

"You have me at a disadvantage," he said, gritting his teeth in a vain attempt to quell his agony.

Thankfully, the ensuing fight was short, even though he had to fence with his left hand. He sent up a prayer of gratitude Sir Edmund had made him learn to fence with both hands.

He lunged forward after he had disarmed Alicio, intending to slash a ‘Z' into other man's shirt, but the narrowed gaze of Magdalena had him slashing his ‘Z' into the dirt floor instead. He saluted as Alicio ran out of the barn. Zorro slumped forward and groaned in pain. Magdalena rushed over to him.

"I knew you were bluffing," she said, checking his wound. "But it was kind of you to save his shirt."

She smiled at him, a smile that did not reach her blue eyes. They both knew where her husband was going. It was only a matter of time until the Alcalde and his soldiers arrived at the farm.

Z Z Z

It was hours later when he arrived home via the secret cave. He was tired, his clothes were torn and filthy, his lungs were filled with smoke, his right arm was throbbing painfully. And he was furious. Furious at that bastard Ramón, who had been more than happy to sacrifice an innocent woman's life in order to catch him.

Zorro slid off Toronado's back and nearly fell into a heap onto the floor as his knees buckled. Then he was almost knocked over when a solid force collided with him and wrapped its arms around his waist.

A weary smile came to the masked man's face. "I'm all right, Felipe," he said, extricating himself from the young man's embrace. "Truly."

Felipe shook his head as he pointed at the bite wound on his mentor's arm then swept his hand over Zorro's length.

"Yes, I did get bitten by a rattlesnake," he conceded. "And I rescued Magdalena Turron from a burning barn. Other than that, I'm just fine."

The youth launched into a series of hand gestures that Zorro could barely follow as he stripped off his black costume. "You heard about the fire?" he asked, already knowing the answer. Felipe nodded before starting to sign again. "And you were worried?" Diego held out his arms. "As you can see, I'm none the worse for wear. And only slightly singed." He chuckled.

Felipe smiled then made his way over to take care of Toronado. Diego returned to his task of cleaning up himself.

When he emerged from the fireplace a short time later, the last person he wanted to encounter was Zafira. So, of course, he met her on the way to the kitchen where he wanted to procure a cup of lemon tea to help with his smoke ravaged throat.

"Where have you been?" she asked indifferently.

"Out." 

His wife wrinkled her nose. "You smell like smoke," she stated.

Diego had hoped changing his clothing would have prevented anyone from noticing. "I. . . I've taken up cigars," he declared, the lie popping into his head. 

"You're disgusting," she replied, her blue eyes flashing with loathing. Zafira turned and started to walk away. "Oh, by the way," she said, pausing and looking over her shoulder at him. "Your father was searching for you earlier. Some nonsense about a painting."

" _Gracias_ ," Diego responded tersely. So this was what his married life had boiled down to, the two of them passing on messages to each other, delivered with barely concealed hostility. He watched as she walked toward the bedrooms. 

Blue eyes. Why did it seem as though all the women who complicated his life had blue eyes? If he were a smart man(which he was beginning to doubt), he would start steering clear of women with blue eyes. Shaking his head, he continued on his way to the kitchen.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "The Chase" written by Michael Marks]

"Treason, sedition, conspiracy, thievery, assault with deadly weapons, attacking government troops and riding with reckless endangerment."

Zorro smiled as he listened to the litany of crimes the alcalde was listing against him. It was ironic, since Ramón was culpable of at least half of those accusations himself. Especially the conspiracy and the thievery.

"And what of your own guilt, Alcalde?" he inquired boldly, holding up a pitcher of water. He proceeded to demonstrate just how crooked the government's scales were.

"How shocking!" exclaimed Ramone with mock surprise. "Mendoza, repair the scales at once."

The stout sergeant immediately agreed and stepped toward the weigh station. Victoria came over to stand next Zorro, who sat astride Toronado. "Thank you, Zorro," she said as she gazed up at him. "Again, you've helped our people win justice."

She looked so lovely, her beautiful brown eyes gazing lovingly up at him. Unable to speak as his heart welled up in his throat, he merely nodded at her words of gratitude and was actually glad when the alcalde started babbling some nonsense about guaranteeing his capture.

"You see, this time, Zorro, I have found the man who will hunt you to the ground," Ramone stated, a smug smirk on his bearded face.

Zorro turned his stallion around to see an Indian standing in front of the garrison office. The other man's stare never wavered as the masked man met his eyes. Giving this new adversary a curt nod, Zorro urged Toronado forward and out of the pueblo as the townspeople cheered.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "The Chase" written by Michael Marks]

By the next afternoon, Diego was sorry he had underestimated Gray Wing's abilities. It didn't seem to matter to him the sheep Diego and Felipe had ‘accidentally' herded into the pueblo had destroyed the freshest set of Zorro's tracks. It didn't seem to matter Toronado carried the same weight as Felipe rode the black stallion, setting out a new purposely misleading trail. 

Gray Wing looked up at Ramone when he had finished examining the ground he had been kneeling on. "He is a clever man," he said, his voice giving away nothing.

"What do you mean?" the alcalde queried with a frown on his face. 

"The tracks change here," declared the tracker. "From this point on, they are made by the same horse, carrying the same weight. But the rider is different. Not as strong."

Diego's heart clenched and his stomach twisted into knots. How on earth could the Indian know? He had always prided himself on his tracking abilities, but even he wouldn't be able to tell the difference of one rider's strength over another. 

Ramone grinned evilly. "Zorro has an accomplice," he said gleefully. " Well, we have enough rope to hang the two of them. And his tracks will lead up right to Zorro."

"Yes," Gray Wing agreed with a nod of his head. "And this second rider moves much more slowly."

Diego swallowed nervously. Dear God, had his plan caused both Felipe and himself to be condemned to swing at the end of a rope? _Ride, Felipe_ , he urged silently, _ride like the wind_.

A short while later, the posse had ridden up to the banks of the Porciuncula River. Diego immediately spotted the patches of quicksand along the river's edge. He rode his horse to the front of the group then dismounted. 

"We can't cross here," he stated. "Quicksand."

"We haven't got time for this," said Ramone impatiently. "We're in a hurry."

The Indian stared up at the commandante. "Yes," he replied. "But only a fool rushes to his own death." He bent down and picked up a rock then threw it at an area of what looked like regular sand. The rock landed with a ‘splat' then slowly sank into the quicksand.

The alcalde swiftly changed his mind and ordered his men to cross further downstream. The lancers were remounting their horses as Gray Wing turned to Diego.

"You're very observant," he said. Diego grew quite uncomfortable under the tracker's sphinx-like stare.

"Out here, one has to be, don't you think?" he stated rhetorically. He tried to keep his countenance as inscrutable as Gray Wing's even though he was quaking inside. The alcalde must not discover Felipe's involvement in what was solely his masquerade, he reminded himself unnecessarily as he swung up into his mare's saddle.. 

Diego had known the risks when he had taken up the sword of Zorro. But Felipe had been a young boy and undoubtedly had been caught up in the excitement and adventure. He wouldn't have worried about the danger, or indeed, would have shrugged them off as part of the subterfuge.

There were several more tense moments as the day wore on. Gray Wing's assertion that Zorro's helper was a young man, based solely on how many berries Felipe had eaten from a bush. Then there had been the collapse of the old mine that had trapped the tracker and the lancers inside of it. Luckily, Diego and Felipe had been deeper in the abandoned cavern and had escaped through a ventilating shaft.

And again, Diego was infuriated by how callously Ramone treated human life. This time, the commandante had been willing to forfeit the lives of his own men in order to apprehend Zorro. The man was a cold-blooded serpent who would have sold his own grandmother if it meant he could catch the fox.

It was nearly dinner time when Diego rode up to the gate of the hacienda. Felipe ran out its front door as Diego dismounted. The look of relief on the lad's face made him smile. The youth then glanced at him questioningly, obviously wanting to know what had happened after Diego had sent him away from the mine. 

"The gunpowder worked perfectly," he began, but paused as Felipe pointed at something behind him. He turned to see the tracker riding toward him. "Gray Wing," he said with a cordiality he did not feel.

"I was on my way out of town," the Indian said without preamble. "And I came across a familiar trail. Zorro's."

Diego was sure he had cast enough uncertainty in the other man's mind with his nervous demeanor at the mention of the masked man's name. That was until the tracker noticed the bright red rash on Felipe's neck. A rash caused by eating berries.

Diego never did know for sure if Gray Wing had figured out that he was Zorro and Felipe was his accomplice. He had seen the doubt in the Indian's steely gaze when Diego had shown him the nearly picked clean berry bush just inside the hacienda gate. 

Shrugging his broad shoulders, he clamped his hand on the back of Felipe's neck and led the youth into the hacienda so they could swap versions of their adventures that day.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - This chapter is all about catching the elusive ‘Fox'. Alicio Turron and the posse of men, Luis Ramone, and the Indian tracker Gray Wing all try to hunt him down using various methods. Of course, none of them succeed.


	34. Unlucky at Cards

It had been unseasonably hot during the month of September, even for the pueblo de Los Angeles. The atmosphere between Diego and Zafira, however, had remained chilly. 

Diego noticed as the heat wave lingered, Zafira had been foregoing her morning rides, often staying in her bedroom until noon. Even his father had noted her change of routine. Diego shrugged off the elder de la Vega's concerns, blaming his wife's altered schedule on the hot weather.

An area causing more uneasiness was the appearance of a professional gambler in town. Diego had only heard rumors of the man, who was called Bishop, and his prowess at cards. Things had been extremely busy at the de la Vega ranch and Diego's spare time had been fleeting, so he hadn't had a chance to see the man in action for himself.. 

[most of the following scene taken from "Broken Heart, Broken Mask" written by Eugene Pressman]

The first free afternoon that Diego had had in several weeks found him sitting on the tavern porch, re-reading his copy of Shakespeare's sonnets (in English, of course). He was also keeping an ear on the poker game in progress at the table to his left. Three of pueblo's caballeros, Don Esteban, Don Jose, and Don Carlos, were playing against the newcomer, Bishop.

It seemed for the most part to be a friendly game of cards. But as the afternoon wore on, the stakes grew higher and tension began to fill the air. Victoria had given Diego a very worried glance the last time she had come outside to refill his glass of lemonade.

It was a short while later that groans of frustration from the card players had Diego looking up from his book. "Gentlemen, the cards don't lie," declared Bishop smugly.

Don Carlos's chair scraped loudly across the wooden planks as he jumped up, throwing his cards down in disgust. He walked over to Diego's table.

"Don Carlos," he said pleasantly as he closed his book. "Lovely evening, isn't it?

"Not particularly," the other man grumbled. "It's too hot."

"How's your game going?" asked Diego. He knew, as did everyone else in the pueblo, that Don Carlos was a horrible card player, even worse than Sergeant Mendoza. And he had even less money to gamble away.

"Terrible." The caballero sat down uninvited at Diego's table.

"The only man who wins at poker is the one who doesn't play," advised Diego; advice his companion obviously never heeded.

Don Carlos glanced over his right shoulder. "I don't like being cheated," he announced.

Diego grimaced inside as Bishop reacted instantly to the other man's words and came ambling over to their table.

"You have a big mouth, my friend," the gambler said, a broad, insincere smile on his face. Diego took the opportunity to assess Bishop, who wasn't an exceptional tall man but looked as though he had the upper body strength of a bull. Hopefully Zorro would proved to be his equal, if necessary.

Don Carlos sprang noisily from his seat once again. This time, Mendoza stepped out of the tavern and in between the two men. But Diego knew the sergeant's interference only delayed the inevitable. Diego quickly excused himself. If he hurried, Zorro might be able to prevent any further conflict between the gambler and one of his father's oldest friends.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "Broken Heart, Broken Mask" written by Eugene Pressman]

"No!"

Victoria grabbed his arm as she shouted out the warning which was followed by a loud popping sound.

Zorro, who had been about to swing up into Toronado's saddle, spun around and watched as Victoria sank slowly to the ground. He ran over and caught her as she collapsed against one of the pillars of the tavern porch.

"Oh," she said in a surprised voice that was also filled with pain.

He stared down in horror at the bright crimson stain slowly seeping through the white cotton of Victoria's blouse. One moment he had been kissing her hand; the next, she was in his arms with a gunshot wound. At least it looked as if it missed her lung and heart, although who knew what other vital organs the bullet had hit. Zorro closed his eyes and swallowed hard as he placed his hand against her left side in an attempt to stem the bleeding. A bullet that had been meant for him, not her.

"It was Bishop," she whispered between gasps of pain.

"Victoria, why?" He asked the question even though he already knew the answer. And it only made him feel worse.

She reached up her right hand and caressed the part of his face not covered by his mask. "You are safe," she murmured, "and that's all that matters."

"Señorita!"

Zorro glanced up when he heard the concern in Sergeant Mendoza's voice as he and the alcalde came running out of the cuartel.

"Zorro!" Ramone barked out excitedly as several lancers appeared behind him. Victoria's hand moving against his face brought his attention back to her.

"Go," she pleaded. "Please, you must save yourself."

He didn't want to leave her. What if she died? He wanted to be with her, to make sure she was all right. And if she did die, he wanted to be with her in her final moments. 

But he gazed into her brown eyes that were swimming with tears and pain and saw they were begging him to go. Telling him if he were captured, her sacrifice would have been for naught. 

Thankfully, Toronado was running interference for him with the lancers, keeping them at bay. He looked up at Don Esteban and Don Jose, whose mouths were gaping open in shock at the scene before them. "Amigos, get her to a doctor at once," he demanded a little more harshly than he intended.

The men both nodded and Don Jose stepped forward. Zorro relinquished Victoria over to him.

He prayed during his frantic ride back to the hacienda. Prayed she wouldn't die. Or if that wasn't to be, prayed she wouldn't die until he could get back to her. The hidden entrance to the secret cave loomed ahead not a moment too soon. Once inside, he flung himself off Toronado's back and started ripping off his clothes. The buttons from his shirt make pinging sounds as they hit the cave floor. He hadn't even noticed Felipe was there until the youth reached out and touched his arm then immediately snatched his hand away.

"Victoria's been shot," Diego stated as he tore the mask from his face. He sat down on a nearby stool, intending to remove his boots but paused when he saw the look of panic in the young man's eyes. Felipe made a few hesitant gestures.

"I don't know if she'll live," replied Diego. Oh, dear God, what was he going to do if she died? What an idiot he had been, giving the pistol back to Bishop. He should have known the other man wouldn't have just walked away. He buried his face into his hands, not wanting to scare the lad anymore than he already had. If he saw that Diego was about to fall apart. . .

Taking a deep breath, he tried to compose himself before he lowered his hands. inhaling deeply a couple more times, he resumed removing the rest of his black costume.

When he had redressed into his regular clothing, he turned to Felipe. "You can't let my father know about Victoria yet," he cautioned. "I'll send someone out with a message as soon as I get back to the pueblo."

Felipe nodded that he understood. Diego left the cave then, running over to his mare that he had left tied to a tree a short distance away from the hidden entrance. He wished he could have taken the swifter Toronado, but couldn't risk the chance of someone seeing him riding Zorro's horse. 

The sun had almost slipped below the western horizon by the time he rode up to the back entrance to the tavern, where he immediately dismounted and ran toward the doctor's office. Quite a large gathering of townspeople had gathered outside, the men with long faces and some of the women were weeping.

Diego's heart tightened painfully. _Oh Dios_ , was she gone? Had he missed his chance to tell her who he truly was and that he loved her? Ignoring the curious stares he received, he wended his way through the crowd to the physician's office door.

Not bothering to knock, he went inside. "Doctor Hernandez," he called out as he looked around the unfamiliar rooms. He had never been inside the doctor's office before as Hernandez usually came out to the hacienda whenever someone there was sick or injured.

"In here, Don Diego," the doctor replied calmly. Diego followed the sound of his voice and walked into what was undoubtably the surgery. Hernandez was bending over Victoria but Diego couldn't see what he was doing as the other man's back shielded most of her slight frame from view.

"Is she. . .?" He couldn't finish the question. 

"No, no," replied the physician, turning away from Victoria and making eye contact with Diego. But before he could say anything else, Don Alejandro burst in the building. Evidently someone else had sent word to the elder de la Vega before Diego had even had the chance to do so.

"Where is Victoria?" the old don demanded. "Is she all right?"

[parts of the following scene taken from "Broken Heart, Broken Mask" written by Eugene Pressman]

Victoria drew a ragged breath and the doctor hurried back over to her. He put his stethoscope onto her chest and listened for several minutes, moving the end of the instrument several times. He then come back over to where Diego and his father were impatiently waiting.

"The bullet's out," announced Hernandez.

A fragile optimism sprung up in Diego. "Then she's going to live?" he asked.

The physician shook his head. "It's far too early to tell," he said, throwing a bucket of cold water on Diego's spark of hope. "The bullet deflected off one of her ribs, which minimized the damage to her insides." The older man sighed heavily. "The bone is cracked and chipped which is going to be very painful until it heals. Then there's always the risk of infection. She'll need round-the-clock care for a least a week."

"She'll stay with us," declared the elder de la Vega in a tone that brooked no argument.

Which he wasn't going to get from Diego as he heartily agreed. They couldn't leave her here in the doctor's office. And the tavern was out of the question. There was no other logical place for her to go.

"You can borrow my carriage," offered Hernandez. "The sooner you can get her settled in, the sooner she can get the rest she needs. I don't need to remind you that these first few hours are critical." He went over to a cabinet and took out a brown bottle. "Here," he said, ‘give her this for the pain."

Diego reached out for the bottle and read its label. Laudanum. He only hoped the need for it would be minimal. He'd seen opium eaters in Madrid and the thought of Victoria becoming like them made him shudder.

The doctor had turned back to Victoria, lifting her hand as he took her pulse. Diego was reluctant to take his eyes off her. Even knowing she wasn't in immediate danger did little to lessen the guilt churning inside him. This was all his fault. If it hadn't been for his selfish wooing of the lovely innkeeper, she never would have fallen so deeply in love with Zorro she would be willing to forfeit her own life to protect his.

"How did this happen, Diego?" his father questioned crossly, disturbing his son's mental berating of himself. "Who shot her?"

"That gambler," Diego responded despondently. "Bishop."

"Did you see it happen?" Diego was taken aback by the ferociousness of the elder de la Vega's tone. He shook his head truthfully. 

"No, I was, er, answering nature's call," he lied, which had become a unconscious habit to him in order to protect Zorro's identity. "I heard the man was aiming at Zorro and. . . and Victoria stepped out in front of him." Again, a pang of guilt swept through him and he was unable to look his father in the eye.

"This Bishop is going pay," the old don growled. "He needs to learn he can't go around shooting at innocent women here in Los Angeles." 

"Father. . ." Diego started to caution the hot-headed elder de la Vega, but Don Alejandro turned away and strode out of the doctor's office.

"I'll help get the carriage," he said over his shoulder before stepping outside, closing the door behind him.

It was nearly an hour later when Diego and his father, assisted by two of the ranch hands, carried Victoria through the front door of the hacienda on a stretcher lent to them by the doctor. Zafira, who was as usual sitting in the library working on her embroidery, jumped to her feet and ran over to Diego who was walking backward as he carried the end of the litter where Victoria's head rested.

"What is going on?" she demanded querulously. "Why are you bringing her here? What's wrong with her?

Don Alejandro jerked his head at the vaquero to his right who took the handles of the stretcher away from Diego. The three men moved away, following the elder de la Vega's instructions to the best guest room, and leaving Diego to deal with his fractious wife. He glared at his father's retreating back.

"She's been shot," he said through clenched teeth, turning his regard to Zafira. "She's going to stay with us until she's recovered."

"What about her employees?" asked his wife. "She pays them enough, I'm sure. They could take care of her. "

"They're simple serving girls, not nurses," retorted Diego. "Maria is the next best thing a doctor we have here in the pueblo and I'm not without skill as a healer. Between us, Señorita Escalante should be well taken care of."

"You're going to doctor her?" Zafira queried disapprovingly. "An unmarried woman? You cannot be serious." She shook her head. "I forbid it."

Diego chuckled mirthlessly. "You lost that right long ago," he said wearily. He started to walk past her. "Excuse me."

"I don't why you and your father dote on her so much," she said viciously. "Everyone in the pueblo knows what she is. A harlot who is anyone's for the taking, including that outlaw Zorro."

Diego spun around and glared at her. "Don't you ever speak such filth in my hearing again," he growled at her. "She's been a good friend to the de la Vegas. She's a far better person than you'll ever be."

Zafira must have sensed she had pushed him too far and took a step back. "Fine,"she hissed. "Just don't expect me to help nurse your ‘good friend' back to health."

She then stuck her chin in the air and stormed off in a huff toward the front door, then slamming it behind her. Diego wondered for a fraction of a second where she was heading off to at this time of night, but then shrugged his shoulders. He had more important issues to concern him at the moment, like making sure Victoria lived through the night.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A corruption of the saying "Lucky at cards, unlucky at love." The origin of this idiom is unknown. Since this chapter deals with gambling, and Diego's bad luck with women, I just had to use something dealing with cards and love. 
> 
> This chapter (and the next chapter as well) is based on the episode "Broken Heart, Broken Mask", which is my favorite episode of the series.


	35. A Heaven in Hell's Despair

Victoria did make it through that first night. But by noon the next day, Diego realized she had fallen into a coma. Doctor Hernandez confirmed his diagnosis when he visited that afternoon.

"It's not necessarily a bad thing," the physician said to Diego. "Her body has suffered a major trauma. She needs time to rest. This is nature's way of insuring that she does. Just make sure she gets enough liquids."

"Thank you, Doctor," he said with more gratitude than he felt. As soon as the other man left, Diego moved the chair he had been sitting in closer to the bed and picked up Victoria's left hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed it reverently. Then he lowered his forehead onto the bed's comforter as guilt racked through his entire being.

"I'm so sorry, Victoria," he murmured, lifting his head up and gazing upon her angelic face. "I never meant for you to get hurt. I never wanted you to sacrifice yourself for me." He kissed her hand again. "I love. . ."

Diego paused as he remembered the confessions he had made to his comatose father when he had been shot and had been at death's door. A wry smile came to his face as he recalled how Victoria had said that Don Alejandro couldn't hear him. But she had been wrong. His father had heard Diego tell him that he was Zorro, only the elder de la Vega had thought it had been a dream. And the coward that he was, Diego didn't correct his mistaken notion.

He looked again at the woman on the bed. What if she, too, could hear him? He didn't dare declare his love for her. How would he ever be able to explain away a dream of Diego de la Vega telling her of his undying devotion?

The sound of the hacienda's front door being slammed shut reverberated throughout the whole house. "Diego!" His father's voice also echoed throughout the entire building. "Diego!"

Diego dropped Victoria's hand and pushed his chair back a respectable distance from the bed. Don Alejandro burst into the room, angrier than Diego had ever seen him before. But then he watched as the elder de la Vega's features softened as he glanced down at Victoria.

"How is she?" he asked quietly.

"No change."

The elder de la Vega motioned for his son to follow him out of the room. After he had closed the door behind them, the old don swirled around to face Diego.

"You won't believe it," he began, fury creeping back into his voice. "The alcalde, he refuses to arrest this Bishop. He says that Victoria was aiding and abetting Zorro and she only got what she deserved."

Diego saw red for a brief moment, then a black curtain of remorse fell upon him. This was all his fault. He regretted, for the first time, that he had started this masquerade. He would have changed places with Victoria in a heartbeat. He should have been the one Bishop shot.

His father's irate voice interrupted Diego's mental torture. "And he told me that Don Carlos is dueling with Bishop at dawn. And the bastard was actually excited by the thought of my friend's death. Why Zorro hasn't just killed Ramón, I'll never know. Edmund was right. Zorro isn't helping us, he's only hindering us."

"You don't truly believe that, do you?" asked Diego in dismay. "Zorro had done so much. . ."

Don Alejandro held up his right hand. "The people are no better off than they were before this masked fox appeared," he declared dismissively. "I'm going over to Carlos's to see if I can talk some sense into him." The old don shook his head wearily. "Although I'm probably wasting my time. He never listened when I told him that gambling would ruin him."

He glanced over at his son. "You look terrible, Diego," he commented. "You've been awake since yesterday, haven't you?"

Diego tried to wave away his father's concern. "I'm fine," he fibbed. In fact, he felt horrible. Not only physically, but mentally as well. He indicated the bedroom door. "I'd better get back in there."

"Very well," said Don Alejandro. " _Adios_." With that, he turned and walked out of the hallway. After he was out of sight, Diego sagged against the wall.

_Dios_ , he hadn't helped Don Carlos at all by intervening. This Bishop was going to kill his father's amigo and try to claim the caballero's lands as his own. Diego had seen the IOU that the gambler had collected from Don Carlos. The only way he could raise that kind of money was if he sold his estate.

He opened the door of the guest room and went back inside. Resuming his bedside vigil, he recognized the fact that his father and Sir Edmund were right. Zorro hadn't done much good for the people of Los Angeles. The alcalde hadn't changed his greedy ways one iota. In fact, he was even worse because of Zorro's interference, using the pueblo's citizens as bait for the evil traps he set for the man in black.

And innocents had been hurt in the process, especially the woman lying unconscious in the bed before him. She had been arrested too many times to count, nearly hung once for a crime she didn't commit, and now was clinging to life because of a gunshot wound. And all because of Zorro. All because he had included her in his charade, selfishly pretending to court her in order to protect his true identity. 

It had been inevitable she would fall in love with him as he had fallen in love with her. There was something between them; chemistry, fate, destiny. . . Whatever it was, they would have been drawn together no matter the circumstances.

[parts of the following scene taken from "Broken Heart, Broken Mask" written by Eugene Pressman]

Diego scooted his chair next to the bed again and placed his hand upon Victoria's small one. He watched as her chest rose and fell, feeling her heartbeat as it pulsed in her wrist. She was alive. But for how much longer? He stroked her hand with his then placed a kiss on its palm.

"I'm so sorry, Victoria," he murmured. "I should have waited for you. You're the woman I love, the one I've always loved. And the woman I love lies here dying." He reached out and touched her forehead, pushing back a piece of hair from her placid face. "If you die, Victoria," he vowed solemnly, "Zorro will die with you."

He kissed her hand again. Then he realized the skin he felt under his hand felt like it was on fire. _Madre de Dios_ , she was burning with fever. The dreaded infection the doctor had warned might come, had. 

Diego stood and began to lift the bedcovers, intent on checking the site of Victoria's wound when he suddenly dropped the blankets. In order to get to the injury, he would have to pull up the white cotton nightgown she was wearing. He had always left the room before as Maria had changed the bandages. 

Sighing, he turned and walked out of the room, going in search of the de la Vega housekeeper.

Z Z Z

The next several days were like a nightmare. Don Carlos had been shot and killed by Bishop. Then the alcalde had handed over half of the dead caballero's estate to the gambler, keeping the other half for himself. Understandable, Don Alejandro had been beside himself with grief and rage.

"Carlos hasn't even been buried yet!" the old don yelled as he, Diego, and Zafira sat at the dining room table, ostensibly eating lunch. None of them, however, seemed to have much of an appetite. 

"And that. . . that bas. . . That blackguard Ramone took half of his lands in taxes," stated Don Alejandro, casting an apologetic eye toward his daughter-in-law. "I should have stepped in," he bemoaned, finally pushing away his barely touched plate. "I should have taken on Bishop myself."

"Father, it wasn't your fight," Diego said in alarm, knowing how impetuous his father could be, especially when he was in a temper. "Don Carlos was a grown man. He knew what he was doing when he sat down to play cards with that gambler."

The elder de la Vega shot his son a look of contempt then threw his napkin down onto the table. "How is Victoria?" he asked as he stood up.

"Her fever's getting worse," Diego replied morosely. "The doctor says her wound is getting septic." He closed his eyes as the rest of the physician's prognosis refused to leave his lips. He had told Diego and Maria that unless Victoria's fever broke, she wouldn't live for much longer. 

"Excuse me," said Zafira, rising from her chair. "I'm going for a ride." She walked over and kissed Don Alejandro on the cheek, then tossed Diego an baleful look. "I'll be back for dinner. If anyone cares."

She spun around then went down the hallway to her room. "I hope Maria forgives us," Diego said, eyeing the uneaten food on the table. Then he glanced up at the elder de la Vega. "Father, promise me that you won't confront Bishop," he said earnestly.

The old don shook his head. "I don't know if I can do that, son," he replied. "His mere presence in the pueblo is an affront to my friend's memory.

"But this Bishop has already shot Victoria and killed Don Carlos," Diego pointed out uneasily. "I don't want you to be his next victim."

"I can handle myself just fine, thank you," declared the old don arrogantly. "Your confidence in me is overwhelming, Diego," he added sarcastically.

He walked out of the room, passing Felipe on his way in. The youth look questioningly at Diego then made the gesture they used for Victoria.

"She's getting worse, Felipe," said Diego. He pounded his fists on the table, rattling the silverware and glasses. "I feel so hopeless. . .and guilty. It may as well have been Zorro who pulled the trigger. It's my fault that she's dying."

He jumped to his feet. "I can't do it anymore, Felipe," he declared. "I can't let anymore innocent people suffer because of Zorro." He glanced away from the lad's apprehensive face. "I've already thrown my mask into the fire. I'm putting an end to this reckless masquerade I never should have started in the first place."

Felipe grabbed at Diego's arm before he could leave the room. The expression on the young man's face was pleading for Diego to change his mind. He shook his head. "I can't do it anymore," he reiterated. "Excuse me, I have to go check on Victoria."

Diego walked away from the stunned youth, making his way back to the guest room where the love of his life lay dying.

Z Z Z

Diego had meant to keep the promise he had made that Zorro was history. But two things changed his mind. The first incident was Victoria waking from her coma. Her fever was gone and her bullet wound had started to heal nicely. And she had convinced him the people needed Zorro. That the weak and the poor had no other defender but the masked man.

Don Alejandro rashly challenging Bishop to a duel, however, had been the pièce de résistance. Diego had to intervene and the only way he could was by donning his black silk mask once more. 

He smiled satisfactorily as he waited in the shadows of the hacienda's courtyard as he recalled his fight with Bishop. He had soundly beaten the other man, forcing him to leave the pueblo by threatening to kill the gambler if he ever set foot inside it again. A vow he knew he would have no trouble carrying out.

[almost all of the following scene was taken from "Broken Heart, Broken Mask" written by Eugene Pressman]

His reminiscing was interrupted by the squeaking hinges of a door being opened nearby. He had known she would come out here. And he had been right. She strolled out into the dark courtyard, unaware her every movement was being observed.

She put her hand on one of the poles supporting the awning and twirled around it, a joyful smile on her lovely face. The hoot of an owl paused her spinning as she looked skyward. Still smiling, she walked over to another post and leaned her back against it. Snapping open her fan, she began to wave it, stirring the warm night air.

He breathed deeply as her scent came wafting in his direction. She didn't smell of spices and peppers tonight, but of roses. She must have bathed in perfumed water earlier that evening, he surmised. Then he groaned inwardly as he thought of her sitting in a steaming tub of water, her bare skin glistening in the candlelight.

Suddenly she spun around and their eyes met. "Señor Zorro?" she asked, her expression one of great happiness.

He glanced over at the open door leading into the courtyard before taking several steps toward her. He knew what he was doing was dangerous, possibly the most dangerous thing he had ever done. But he owed her this visit from her masked hero. She had saved his life and it had nearly cost her own.

"You look lovelier than ever," he whispered huskily. He placed his bare hand against her soft cheek, unable to restrain himself from touching her.

She smiled up at him, her eyes radiant. "Thank you," she replied, "I am feeling much better."

Feeling her smooth skin under his fingertips, he nearly lost his resolve. _No_ , he told himself sternly, _you can't have her. She can never be yours._

"I've been thinking," he said quietly. "You should have a husband." 

It was like a knife twisting in his gut as she raised her face to his, the obvious expectation he was about to propose to her shining in her dark eyes. This was going to hurt him just as much as it would her. But this charade had to end. She had almost died because of it.

"Someone who will be good to you," he suggested. "Someone who will appreciate you. Someone who will give. . ." His voice trailed off as he noticed her crestfallen expression as she realized he wasn't talking about himself.

"I thought. . ." she began, the disappointment and pain unmistakable in her voice and in her eyes as she stared up at him. "I thought we shared certain feelings."

"We do," he murmured, unable to lie to her anymore. "More than you'll ever know."

They stared intently at each other for several moments before she opened her mouth, intending to say something. But then with a little shake of her head, she reached up and kissed his lips instead.

A current of desire shot through his entire body. Without any thought of resisting, he greedily kissed her in return. His manhood began to swell as he placed his hands on her back and drew her closer, pressing her soft body to his. He could feel the hardened buds of her breasts rubbing up against his chest. She offered no opposition as he darted his tongue between her lips but met it with her own, causing his erection to grow even firmer.

"Diego!"

The sound of his father's voice shattered the spell that ensnared her deeper and deeper into his soul and they broke apart. For a split second, he forgot where he was, who he was with, and who he was pretending to be; and the words, ‘Yes, Father' almost slipped from his lips.

He looked into her eyes and saw she had been as deeply affected by the kiss as he had been. He had known it would be like this between them, this passion, this sense of completeness. And for once, he hated being right. Stroking her hair and face, he tried to reassure her, tried to put into actions what he could never put into words.

"I must go," he pleaded, almost more to himself than to her. "I must go."

He left her then, before he was drawn into the temptation of kissing her again. As he dashed away, he took off his hat and pulled off his mask with one hand while attempting to unbuckle his belt with the other. The mask flew out of his hand and fluttered over to the courtyard wall where it came to rest on some flowering vines.

He would just have to come back and retrieve it later, he told himself as he ran around the corner of the hacienda and to the waiting open window of his bedroom. He unbuttoned his shirt as he cautiously peered over the sill, his green eyes sweeping the chamber.

He climbed through the portal and hurried over to his bed. Shoving his hat and sword belt under the mattress, he quickly divested himself of the rest of his clothing, which joined the other parts of his costume in their hiding place.

Lifting the blankets, he slid under them. And up against the naked body of his wife.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - This title is from the poem "The Clod and The Pebble" by William Blake from his 1794 collection Songs of Innocence and Experience.
> 
> The poem is about two sides of love - selfish and unselfish. Diego experiences hell as Victoria lies dying because of the bullet she took for Zorro. But he also experiences heaven when she recovers and he kisses her for the first time.
> 
> The scene of Zorro and Victoria in the courtyard is my favorite scene of the series.


	36. Unexpected Expectations

Diego jumped back out of the bed as if he had been burned. _Madre de Dios!_ What was _she_ doing here? he thought, more than a bit irritatedly. Why, tonight of all nights, had she decided to come to his room?

He looked down at his manhood, still painfully hard from his encounter with Victoria, then over to where Zafira was sleeping. It had been nearly two years since the last time he had been allowed to touch her. It would be so easy to crawl between the sheets and take her, slaking his lust. She only came to his room when she wanted sex. And by God, he could give it to her tonight.

But he looked down at his sleeping wife again and brought his hand up to his still tingling lips. No, he couldn't do it. _She_ was not the woman he wanted. _She_ was not the woman he loved. He would only be using her to satisfy his yearnings for Victoria. 

Quietly, he crept over to the armoire and took out a white linen shirt and a pair of blue trousers. Donning them hastily, he then snatched up his shoes and tiptoed out of the room. He stilled in the doorway as Zafira sighed and then rolled over. But once he was certain she was still asleep, he stepped out of the room and eased the door shut behind him.

He made his way to the library, intending to deceive his wife once again by pretending to spend the night reading and then falling asleep just before dawn. A ruse he had used too many times.

Don Alejandro found him just as he had settled himself onto the settee, a thick volume of poetry in his hands.

"Ah, Diego, there you are," he said. "Have you seen Victoria?"

Diego shook his head. "No." The lie slipped easily from his lips, lips that still tasted of hers.

"Here I am, Don Alejandro," said the woman in question, breezily walking into the library, a dreamy expression on her flushed face. "I just went outside for a breath of fresh air."

"Well, it seems to have agreed with you," commented the old don.

Diego could only stare at her, not trusting himself to say anything. His eyes grew big as he noticed she held a crumpled piece of black silk in her left hand. Obviously she had found Zorro's mask amongst the tangled vines and claimed it for herself. He pretended to read as he listened to the rest of the conversation between her and his father. 

" _Si_ , it is so beautiful tonight," Victoria agreed. Diego glanced up at her and saw the secretive smile that crept over her lovely face. "Well, I better go to bed. _Buenas noches_ , Don Alejandro. Diego. And thank you both again for allowing me to stay here while I recovered."

"It was the least we could, my dear," said the elder de la Vega. He stepped toward her and put her hand on her back then glanced over at his son. "Diego, are you coming?"

Diego shook himself as he was still reeling from the encounter in the courtyard. "No, Father," he said, then held up his book of poetry. "I thought I would read for a bit."

Don Alejandro shook his head as he led Victoria toward the guest room where she had been convalescing. "He'll probably be up all night, knowing him," he complained.

Victoria's reply was a giggle. Diego sighed as he watched them disappear down the hallway before re-opening his book. The words seemed to be jumbled on the smooth vellum page, as tumbled as the thoughts in his head and he closed it again. He was in for another long, sleepless night.

Z Z Z

Victoria planned to leave the hacienda the next morning since she had fully recovered. A bleary-eyed Diego watched her as he and his father joined her for breakfast. She was talking animatedly with Don Alejandro.

"I can't wait to get back to work," she said before taking a bite of her toast. "Pilar and Alicia are hard workers, but. . ." She shrugged meaningfully.

"I've kept an eye on the tavern, my dear," said the elder de la Vega. "Things have been running as smoothly as they could be in your absence."

"I cannot thank you both enough," Victoria said, glancing first at the old don then at Diego. Her gaze held Diego's for a moment, then he looked down at his plate as he grew uncomfortable by her outpouring of gratitude. Lingering feelings of guilt still haunted him. She had nearly died because of him. And he could never forget that.

Zorro might continue to fight for justice but the flirtatious attention he paid to the lovely innkeeper would cease. He could no longer continue to mislead her. He was a married man. There would never be a future for them and it was cruel to pretend otherwise. He only hoped she would heed Zorro's suggestion she find someone else, even though it would nearly kill him to see her with another man.

"Diego!"

The irritated voice of his father startled Diego as he was about to take a drink of his coffee and several drops of it dribbled down the front of his shirt.

"What? I'm sorry," he said as he dabbed his napkin at the brown spots on his white linen shirt. 

"Victoria asked if you were coming to the tavern later," Don Alejandro said in exasperation. "There's going to be a little celebration."

"Of course," Diego replied with what he hoped was a cheery grin. "I wouldn't miss it." 

"Wouldn't miss what?" queried Zafira as she glided into the dining room, dressed in her royal blue riding habit.

"A party at the tavern this afternoon," explained her father-in-law. "We celebrating Victoria's return to health."

"How lovely." Her polite words were belied by the unpleasant note in her voice. "Well, I'm going for my ride."

Nobody said anything as she picked up a piece of dry toast and carried it out of the room. Diego wondered if his father had finally noticed that his daughter-in-law's show of affection was a charade.

And he still was curious to learn what she had been doing in his room the previous evening. Well, besides being naked in his bed, of course. Why would she want to sleep with him after keeping him at arm's length for so long? Did she just miss having sex or was there another reason?

Diego looked at Victoria and his father and saw they were calmly eating their meal. Well, he told himself, he wasn't about to ask his wife what her reasons were. If she never volunteered the information, he probably would never know why. 

And that was undoubtedly for the best, he decided as he drained his cup of coffee then poured himself another.

Z Z Z

It was the dream again. The one he kept having ever since the night Zorro and Victoria had kissed in the hacienda courtyard over a week earlier. He could feel his lips on his, their warmth, their sweetness. He could feel her body pressed up against his, the softness of her breasts against the hard muscles of his chest.

He placed his hands on her hips, then cupped her bottom, pulling her up against his rigid manhood. Their kiss intensified, their tongues intertwined in a dance of passion.

"I love you," he murmured into her ear after they had torn their mouths away from each other. This was where the fantasy would usually fall apart; he either stopped dreaming completely or his mind moved off in different and unrelated directions.

But tonight, it didn't. He saw Victoria's smiling face looking down at him as she straddled him. He felt the curly hair that covered her womanhood as it tickled his groin. She kissed him again. Groaning, he slid his hands up the sides of her naked body to her breasts. He teased her hardening nipples with his thumbs and heard her whimper.

Through the haze of lust, he realized he was lying on his back, and on something soft. Shrugging mentally, he resumed kissing the woman he loved, easing his tongue into her mouth. He wondered only for a second about her sudden lack of response, then realized she was slowly sinking herself down onto his throbbing member. Moaning, he threw his head back as he was sheathed inside her and he began to thrust.

She felt painfully dry, hurting him almost as much as it had to be hurting her. Abruptly, he was reminded of the last time he had made love to his wife. It had been pretty much the same way, an uncomfortable and humiliating experience he'd rather forget.

A disturbing thought entered his mind and he stopped pushing into her. She kept moving though, continuing to ride him, making odd little noises in her throat.

Diego opened his eyes and looked up at the woman atop him. It wasn't Victoria. It had never been Victoria. It was Zafira. She had her face scrunched up, obviously in much discomfort, as she persistently carried on.

And his traitorous body started reacting to her movements. _It has been so long_ , he groaned to himself, _so very long_. Closing his eyes, he recommenced desperately driving into her, shoving from his mind the thought he was betraying Victoria by what he was doing. It only took a few frenzied minutes for him to spill his seed deep inside his wife.

Diego opened his eyes and stared into those of his wife as she pushed herself into a sitting position. He thought he caught a glimpse of triumph in her blue eyes before she moved off of him and turned away.

"Why?" he asked as she picked up her robe from the end of his bed and slid it on her nude body.

His wife shrugged her shoulders. "I wanted to," she said nonchalantly as she got down off the bed and walked toward her room.

"Zafira," he said as he sat up. He felt confused by her cold indifference. Confused that she had just had intercourse with him. Confused that she obviously had not enjoyed it. And sick to his stomach because he felt like he had just participated in something sordid. 

She stopped and turned back to glare at him. "Don't worry about it, Diego," she said airily. "It won't happen again. Oh, and whoever it was you were dreaming about, I hope it wasn't me." She laughed mirthlessly as she passed through the connecting door, shutting it firmly behind her. He heard the lock snick a second later.

Diego flopped onto his back onto the mattress. _Madre de Dios._ What was she up to now? He covered his eyes with his right forearm. He hated being tied to a woman whom he could not trust. A woman who was bent on making his life miserable. A woman who, for all intents and purposes, had just raped him.

He shot upright as a sickening notion hit him. Had tonight been the only night she had taken advantage of him? Had his dreams of making love to Victoria actually been unwitting sexual encounters with Zafira? His stomach churned violently and he had to scramble out of his bed to find the chamber pot. Diego retched until he had nothing left inside.

_Dear God_. He pushed away the porcelain vessel and its vile contents then rested his forehead on the cool tile floor for a few moments before crawling back into his bed.

He didn't sleep a wink the rest of the night.

Z Z Z

Summer finally slipped into fall. The fierce Santa Ana winds decided to wreak havoc that year. Several fires had raged to the west and the south of the pueblo. And although the flames never neared Los Angeles, the high winds had caused much damage on all the surrounding ranchos, including the de la Vegas's.

Diego was actually glad, however, that there was hard work to be done restoring things to right. It took his mind off his troubles. His body would be so exhausted he would fall asleep almost instantly. A deep, dreamless sleep. 

Zorro's visits to the pueblo were becoming increasingly rare. It had been a month after the fires before the masked man's presence was needed in Los Angeles, to save the alcalde from his even more evil (as if that were possible) identical twin brother who had come to Los Angeles to kill Ramone and to take his place as commandante. 

Unfortunately, Vicente Ramone had received all the charm between the two men and had made Diego suspicious. And the fact the man had fawned all over Victoria had not exactly endeared him to Diego either. He recalled with a grimace the image of the other man kissing her hand, dancing with her, spouting bad limericks to her beauty.

Diego had known it wouldn't be easy to stand by and watch as Victoria was courted by other men. But he never counted on the jealous rage that consumed him every time a man so much as looked at her with the tiniest glimmer of interest. The alcalde's smarmy sibling had nearly caused his anger to boil over in a volcanic fury.

An experiment he had been working on dealing with the differences between people's fingertip patterns had been all the proof he had needed to confront Ramón's brother and prove him a fraud. That and the scar he had given the alcalde on his right wrist. And it hadn't come as a surprise either the commandante had let his sibling go free.

Diego shook his head the next morning as he made his way out of his room. To think that Luis Ramone was actually the lesser of two evils. It made him wonder what the rest of the family was like. 

He was about to walk to the dining room for breakfast when he heard the sound of retching coming from his wife's room. He paused, his hand on the knob of his door, and wondered if she needed any help. He may not love her anymore, but she was still his responsibility. And he had promised to take care of her during both sickness and health.

Diego took the few steps that placed him in front of Zafira's door then knocked softly. "Zafira?" he called quietly. "Are you all right?"

Scuffling noises could be heard from behind the wooden portal, then light footsteps. The door was wrenched open and a ashen-faced Zafira glared up at him. The stench of vomit assailed his nose.

"Are you all right?" Diego reiterated. "I . . ."

"Oh, I'm just fine," she said, her mouth a twisted sneer. "Never better." She tried to close the door but he stuck his foot in the way.

"It's obvious you're not," he pointed out. She really did look terrible. Her skin was a pasty white and her eyes were red-rimmed. "Shall I fetch the doctor?"

Zafira glanced up at him in astonishment, no doubt surprised by his solicitousness. "No. . .no," she replied, bowing her head. "There's nothing he can do." Then she looked up at Diego. "Well, at least not for about eight months anyway."

"Eight months?" Diego echoed nonplused. "Why eight. . .? The question died on his lips as he realized the significance of her words. Oh Dios mio, she was. . ."Pregnant? You're pregnant? How?"

She smiled up at him teasingly. "The usual way, Diego," she stated. "Congratulations, you're going to be a father."

She met no resistance as she nudged his foot out of the way then closed the door, leaving the stunned Diego standing there, his mouth gaping open like a fool.

_Madre de Dios_ , he thought as he finally turned and leaned up against the wall outside Zafira's room. His mind drifted back to the night he had woke up with his wife atop him. Had it happened then? It must have, he surmised with a shake of his head.

He was going to be a father. Even as distasteful as the child's conception had been, Diego couldn't quite hold back the smile that threatened to take over his whole face.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - The unexpected announcement Zafira was expecting at the end of this chapter was all the inspiration I needed to name this one.


	37. The Expiring Flame Renews

Don Alejandro was beside himself with joy when he learned his daughter-in-law was finally going to give him a grandchild. But Diego saw in his father's eyes the same apprehension he felt in his heart. Zafira had lost a baby before. There were no guarantees she would carry this one to term.

Even reassurances by Doctor Hernandez that everything was progressing nicely did little to ease Diego's anxiety. And it was a nervousness that was only added to by his wife's sudden amiability. He had heard being with child often changed the mother's temperament but in Zafira's case, it was as if she was a totally different person. 

Diego began to see glimpses of the woman he had courted and married. And he discovered his feelings for her that he had thought were long dead, hadn't quite been buried deep enough. 

[parts of the following scene taken from "Rites of Passage" written by Robert L McCullough]

But what astonished Diego the most was her new attitude toward Felipe. It was about four months into her pregnancy when Zorro had dropped off an Indian girl at the hacienda. The alcalde and his men had burned her village and had chased off her tribe. The man in black had rescued the teenager from Ramón and his plans to turn her into his maid.

Diego had just come through the fireplace panel into the library when he heard his father call out his name. Grabbing a book about crop rotation off a shelf, he ambled over to where Don Alejandro, Zafira, and Felipe stood in a circle around the young woman.

"Well, who is this?" he asked, acting as if he had never met her before.

"This is Kinona, a young Chumash woman," explained the elder de la Vega. "Did you know she was nearly kidnapped by lancers?"

Diego pretended to be appalled. "We should notify the alcalde at once."

"It was him!" exclaimed Kinona. She touched her dark braided hair. "The one with the yellow hair who ran us off."

"We should help her return to her family," said Zafira. Diego glanced over at her and noticed that she actually had a welcoming smile on her face. He gasped as he realized how beautiful she looked without the perpetual frown she usually wore.

His thoughts were interrupted by the Indian girl's angry shake of her head. "No!" she said firmly. "I am never going back."

"Why?" inquired Don Alejandro.

"I have only my father," she began, "and he will not let me go to the Mission school."

"Oh, you know about the school," said Diego as he tried to keep his attention on the conversation.

Kinona nodded. "There I will learn the way of the future, how to help my people," she stated proudly. My father, he only knows the old tribal ways."

"Well, until we can make arrangements at the school," said Diego, "it appears we have a houseguest." He glanced over at his father who tipped his head in agreement. 

"Felipe will see that you are made comfortable, Kinona," offered Zafira, indicating the young man to her right.

"Felipe?" said the young woman as she turned and smiled shyly at the youth, who was bashfully grinning at Kinona. Diego had to give the lad's right shoulder a shake.

"Felipe. . ." 

The young man finally pulled himself out of his stupor and led the Indian girl from the parlor. Diego watched them with narrowed eyes.

"I wonder if it's such a good idea to put her into his care," he opined.

Zafira laughed. "I think it's adorable," she declared. "It will do Felipe good to find himself a novio."

"He's a little young for that," replied Diego. 

"He's almost sixteen, isn't he?" asked his wife. "He's not too young to fall in love." 

"That's true, Diego," said his father. "I was barely eighteen when I first laid eyes on your mother. I knew then and there she was the woman I was going to marry." He patted his son on the shoulder. "Don't worry, Felipe's a good boy. He would never do anything to shame us."

Don Alejandro walked out of the room then, humming a tune Diego recognized as one his mother used to play on the piano.

"If it will make you feel better," said Zafira with a knowing smile, "I'll go check on them."

Diego turned and gazed into her eyes. He could see she was being sincere. "I'd like that," he said, placing his hand on her arm. "Thank you."

"De nada," she said before looking away a bit uncomfortably. She left the parlor in search of the two young people. Diego noticed that she waddled slightly as he observed her from behind. He realized that her stomach had become more prominent in recent weeks and smiled.

She was going to have his child, he mused happily. He was going to be a father. Suddenly an image slipped unbidden into his head, one where he and Victoria watched as their children played outside in the courtyard. Little boys and girls with their mother's curly black hair and dark eyes.

His heart tightened painfully. He had to put Victoria out of his mind. But it was a task that was proving itself impossible. But, he scolded himself, if he harbored any hope of a normal life with Zafira and their child, which he was beginning to believe could become a reality, he had to stop dreaming of the lovely innkeeper. 

He had seen the hurt in her beautiful brown eyes whenever the conversation turned to Zorro when he was at the tavern. It had been a long time since the masked man had done more than waved at her politely from the back of his big black stallion.

It was for the best, he told himself. It had to be.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "Rites of Passage" by Robert L McCullough]

The next morning Diego was getting dressed when a loud pounding began on the front door of the hacienda. He stepped out of his room as he finished buttoning up his white linen shirt and met his father and his wife as they emerged from their rooms.

"Who in the devil is that this early in the morning?" asked Don Alejandro grumpily. "It's barely sunrise." He made his way toward the front door as Kinona and Felipe showed up behind Diego and Zafira. "We'll be right there!" the elder de la Vega called out at the clamorous knocking continued.

Diego held up his hand at Felipe, who nodded. The youth grasped Kinona's arm and pulled her toward the kitchen. Diego and Zafira walked up behind Don Alejandro as the alcalde and several lancers pushed their way into the hacienda.

"What is the meaning of this?" the old don asked hostilely as Ramone pushed past him. "How dare you?"

The alcalde stopped in the middle of the foyer and was almost knocked over by Sergeant Mendoza, who had been tailing his commandante very closely. Ramón gave his inferior the evil eye before addressing the de la Vegas. "Yesterday, the bandit Zorro abducted an Indian girl who was in my custody."

"Why would you think she's here?" inquired Diego. It wasn't under he felt his wife's shoulders under his arm he realized he had drawn her nearer to him in a protective gesture. It was even more telling Zafira didn't move away.

"Because my men and I spent the entire night searching every lean-to, adobe, and barn in the vicinity," the alcalde explained with a snarl. "Your hacienda is the last place to be examined."

Diego saw the flash of movement just a split second before Ramone noticed it as well. The commandante strode into the dining and reached behind one of the pillars which Felipe stood in front of.

The alcalde pulled Kinona out into view. "And it appears our search is over," he drawled smugly.

The girl looked at them with accusing eyes as she struggled to get away from Ramón's grasp. "You said I could trust you!"

"We certainly didn't sent for him," said Diego.

"You have no right to detain her," declared Don Alejandro as he stepped up to the alcalde.

Ramone insisted he was responsible for the girl's safety and wouldn't listen as the elder de la Vega offered to let her stay with them. The commandante started dragging Kinona away. But Diego stepped out in front of them.

"Now just a minute," he said crossly. "What do you think you're doing?"

Spouting some nonsense about Kinona being abandoned by her tribe and therefore falling under the colonial government's protection, the alcalde started pushing her toward the front door. This time, Felipe rushed toward them, both of his hands drawn up into fists. Diego had to grab both arms of the incensed youth to keep him from punching the older man.

"Felipe," he said through clenched teeth. "Don't." He didn't want to find out what Ramone would do to the enraged youth if he attacked the commandante.

"Stand aside, boy," said the alcalde as he glared menacingly at Felipe. Then his expression turned sardonic. "You know, I've never hung a deaf mute before," he said sincerely. "But there's a first time for everything."

After glancing at Diego and Don Alejandro, Ramone led Kinona out of the hacienda, followed by his lancers. Diego held onto Felipe, who tried to wrest himself out of his grasp. Leaning down near Felipe's ear, Diego spoke in a whisper so the others couldn't overhear. "I know, I know," he tried to say reassuringly. "If you going to fight, pick your time, not his."

The youth stopped thrashing about. But it wasn't until he heard the sound of the garrison's horses riding away did Diego set the young man free.

Felipe spun around and shot a look of pure fury at Diego. Don Alejandro came up and put his hand on the lad's shoulder. "Don't worry, Felipe," he said in a calm voice which was belied by the anger in his eyes. "We'll do everything we can to get her out of the alcalde's clutches."

Shrugging off the elder de la Vegas's hand, Felipe pivoted away from him and stormed off to his room. Diego looked over at his father, who also lifted his shoulders before turning and leaving the room. The sensation of his wife's arms snaking around his waist had Diego focusing his attention on her instead.

He was even more taken aback as Zafira pressed her face against his chest. He could feel a dampness seeping onto his shirt. Diego glanced down at her then lifted her chin and saw the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"It's so terrible," she sobbed. "Why is he so mean?"

Diego chuckled softly. "Shh. . ." he soothed. "Don't cry, _querida_. We'll get her away from the alcalde. All right?"

Zafira hiccuped as she looked up at him oddly. Diego realized he had called her an endearment he hadn't used since they arrived in California. 

"I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know why I've been so weepy lately."

"I've read that. . ." Diego began to say but stopped as something hit him just above his groin. He glanced down at Zafira's belly which was stilled pressed up against him. His eyes met hers. "Was that the baby?" he asked, unable to keep the excitement from his voice.

She nodded, biting her lower lip. Diego placed his hands on her stomach and was rewarded with another kick. That was his child in there, he thought with wonder. His son or his daughter. 

He brought his hand back up to Zafira's face then wiped her tears away with his thumbs. Then he bent his head lower, meaning to kiss her. She turned at the last second and his lips brushed her cheek instead of her mouth.

Zafira extricated herself from his embrace. "I-I . . .I n-need to go for my walk now," she stammered. She had given up riding about a month earlier as Doctor Hernandez had advised.

"May I join you this morning?" Diego asked, still a little in shock by what had passed between them.

She shook her head. "N-no," she said. "I like to go alone. It gives me time to. . .to think about things."

Diego nodded. "Very well," he conceded. "Just be careful. Remember, the alcalde said Zorro was lurking about."

She laughed, and again Diego was dazzled by the beauty of her smiling face. "The alcalde is a fool," she declared. "Zorro would never hurt a woman. He's too much of a gentleman." She tilted her head thoughtfully. "He's like you in that regard. Very chivalrous."

"Thank you," he replied calmly but on the inside he was a cauldron of seething emotions. _Dios mio_ , it would never do if she started comparing him with Zorro. Whatever else she might be, Zafira wasn't dumb. 

Zafira started to turn away but he reached out and grasped her right hand, then brought it to his lips. "Be careful anyway," he cautioned. "There are still other dangers out there besides Zorro." He let go of her hand and touched her bulging belly again. "I wouldn't want any harm to come to either of you," he stated softly.

" _Hasta luego_ ," she said as she headed toward her bedroom. Diego could only stare at her back. Had he fallen in love with his wife again? Or were these tender feelings being stirred up because of the child she carried inside her?

Diego sighed as he remembered he had bigger problems at the moment. Like how to free the Indian girl from Luis Ramone's evil plans of degrading servitude. He also didn't like the way the commandante had treated Kinona, nor the way he had leered at the young woman.

Diego made his way down to the young man's bedroom, where he hoped he could talk some sense into the lad and to keep him from doing something stupid over the girl. Or at least get him to promise not to do anything rash. Like get himself hung.

Z Z Z

It was later that afternoon when Diego, Felipe, and Don Alejandro were out in the courtyard, pruning some of the vines and trees. Zafira was inside, taking a nap. All three men looked up when they heard hoof beats rapidly approaching the hacienda.

"What now?" queried the elder de la Vega. He tossed aside the branch he had just lopped off an apple tree and turned to face the gate.

Diego, then Felipe, also pivoted around, just in time to see Victoria ride up to the wall surrounding the house. Felipe shot a meaningful glance Diego's way.

But he turned away as he only had eyes for the woman who was dismounting her white mare. Evidently staying away from her could not stop the love that welled up inside him as Victoria walked up to them, a perturbed expression on her lovely face.

Diego scolded himself silently. Hadn't it just been that morning that he wondered if he still loved Zafira? And now, just the sight of Victoria had him twisted up in knots like a school boy.

Was it possible to be in love with two women at the same time? Was it fair to either of them? Diego shook his head as he set down the pruning shears he had been holding and tried to listen to what the beautiful innkeeper was relating to Felipe and his father about the Alcalde's mistreatment of Kinona.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - This title is from a quote by John Gay. "In books and love the mind one end pursues, and only change the expiring flame renews." In this chapter, Diego finds himself falling in love with Zafira again, and wondering if it's because she's pregnant or because she seems like the person he fell in love with in Spain.
> 
> John Gay (1685-1732) was an English poet and dramatist.


	38. Quantum Leap

[parts of the following scene taken from "Rites of Passage" by Robert L McCullough]

As it turned out, Kinona was back at the hacienda within twenty-four hours. Diego and Don Alejandro, accompanied by Felipe, escorted Victoria back to Los Angeles, intending to confront the Alcalde. 

They arrived to find the garrison in chaos. Smoke boiled out of Ramone's office. Both lancers and townspeople were running around the plaza. A bucket brigade was passing pail after pail of water from the fountain to the commandante's headquarters.

"Sergeant!" Diego called out as he and the others dismounted. "What happened?"

"Indians, Don Diego!" shouted Mendoza as he ran up to them. "A whole raiding party!"

"How many were there, Sergeant?" inquired Don Alejandro.

The sergeant shook his head. "I don't know, it was siesta time," he replied. "We didn't count them. Thank goodness we have things under control."

His words were belied by the turmoil still churning throughout the pueblo. Cries of pain emanated from inside the garrison. The alcalde had been injured, they learned, shot in the behind with an arrow. Diego, his father, Felipe, and Victoria all watched as a lancer extracted it as Ramone blubbered.

Diego could barely contain his mirth over the commandante's predicament. The alcalde was so distraught over the attack he told them to get Kinona out of his sight. Which the de la Vegas did with alacrity.

Later that evening, after supper, Diego noticed Felipe and Kinona had disappeared. A quick search of the hacienda revealed they were out in the courtyard. Diego listened for a moment and it became clear the girl was interpreting a story that Felipe was obviously gesturing to her. Well, as long as his hands were busy storytelling, they wouldn't be busy doing something else, Diego thought with a chuckle as he made his way inside to the library.

He and his father played several games of chess as Zafira sat on a nearby settee, embroidering the hem of an infant-sized gown. She was really quite talented at her needlework, Diego acknowledged as he glanced over at the intricate design she was stitching into the white linen. Then it struck him how tiny the garment actually was and a wave of trepidation swept over him. 

The thought he was going to be responsible for the well-being of such a small, defenseless person rocked him to his very core. His apprehension must have shown in his eyes because Zafira looked up from the gown and gave him a curious glance. He smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner then turned his attention back to the game of chess he was currently losing to his father.

"Your move, Diego," Don Alejandro grunted as he took his hand off the bishop he had just moved. Diego stared down at the board and realized that no what he did, the elder de la Vega would have him in check.

He was contemplating what to do when his wife jabbed her needle into a pincushion and rose awkwardly to her feet. "I'm going to bed," she announced.

But before she could take a step, Felipe and Kinona rushed into the room. Felipe was holding a spear which he handed to Diego who was rising from his chair. A flurry of signs from the young man explained how the lance had been thrown at the courtyard door, narrowly missing his head.

"A Chumash battle spear," Diego commented as he passed the weapon to his father, who was also now standing. 

"It is a challenge," declared Kinona.

Don Alejandro let her take the spear. "Why a challenge? I don't understand."

She flipped the black feather tied to the spear with her fingers. "This spear carries the markings of Black Feather," she explained. "He must have seen me outside."

Diego glanced over at Felipe and noticed the blush deepening on his face. Just what had this Black Feather seen, he wondered.

"But why would he try to hurt you and Felipe?" asked Zafira, putting her hands protectively on her swollen stomach. 

"My father promised me to him when I was just a child," Kinona replied. She then looked over at Felipe with a grim expression. "If you do not accept his challenge, on the dawn of the full moon, he will kill you."

Felipe shrugged then held out his hands toward the Indian girl. She shook her head.

"No, there is no other way," she said. "For Black Feather, there is only the field of honor at Big Rock." She glanced at Diego then back to Felipe. "Or death," she added.

Diego was unable to talk Felipe out of meeting with the Chumash warrior. Fortunately, the full moon was two days away, so he had a little bit of time to train the young man in spear fighting. The youth quickly learned the techniques, as he had with swordplay. 

When the appointed hour arrived, Diego watched as Felipe rode off by himself. Kinona had said no one could accompany the young man, that he had to go alone. 

Diego, however, was not about to calmly wait at the hacienda, not knowing the outcome of the duel until it was too late. He had taught Felipe every thing he knew, but what if it wasn't enough? The thought of the youth's lifeless body twisted his stomach into knots and tore at his heart. Felipe was like a son to him, he reflected as he stood in the secret cave, buttoning up his black shirt. And he would do anything to protect his family, he vowed as a wave of paternal emotions swept over him.

Zorro put his hat on his head before going over to saddle Toronado. He knew he risked Felipe's anger and resentment if he interfered, but hopefully, the lad wouldn't know he had observed his battle with the Indian warrior. And if he did, the man in black shrugged, a little anger was a small price to pay to keep the young man from losing his life.

And the masked man did earn Felipe's wrath. But he also saved his life. To Diego, the trade was worth it. Kinona was enrolled in the Mission school and everyone was happy. Except, perhaps for the alcalde. But then, Diego surmised, it would take Zorro swinging from a noose to make Luis Ramone a happy man.

Z Z Z

  
**Approximately Four Months Later**  


Diego couldn't believe it. Any moment now, he was really going to be a father. Any second, his wife would give birth to his son or daughter. He didn't care which, just so long as the child was healthy. 

He took a deep breath in a vain attempt to calm himself. The baby was early, by nearly three weeks. Zafira's belly had grown so large during the course of her pregnancy the doctor thought she might be carrying twins. And, the good physician had told them, that twins often came earlier than a single infant.

That didn't stop Diego from worrying though as he paced the corridor outside his wife's bedroom. It had been over twenty-four hours since she had gone into labor around noon the previous day. Her cries of pain were growing closer together and that frightened him as well. She was in as much danger as the baby (or babies, as the case may be).

It surprised him how much closer he and Zafira had become in the past months. But, he opined to himself, it was more a friendship than a romantic relationship. Zafira had become content, finally at peace with her life in California and with him. They could speak easily to each other; gone was the snarling and sniping that had marred much of their marriage.

Zafira, however, had shied away from any physical contact between them. She did allow Diego to touch her stomach, to feel the child moving around inside her. But nothing more. Embraces, caresses, and kissing were prohibited and Diego gave up trying long ago. There had been something in her blue eyes that made him respect her wishes.

He had had little time to dwell on the lack of love between himself and his wife. Felipe had remained furious with Diego for several months. And it hadn't helped that Kinona had decided to end their short romance. She had fought her father, her tribe, and the alcalde for the chance to attend school. She didn't want the distraction to her studies that Felipe had proved to be. He hadn't taken the break-up well.

Diego frowned as he remembered when Miguel, the de la Vega stable master, had brought an intoxicated Felipe back to the hacienda, along with an empty bottle of tequila. It seemed that the young man and Miguel's son, Paco, who was about a year older than Felipe, had ‘acquired' the bottle of liquor from one of the other vaqueros, and had proceeded to drink themselves into a stupor.

Felipe had been in no mood to listen to Diego's lecture about the evils of alcohol, but Diego gave it to him, nonetheless. Don Alejandro had marked the incident as a sign of youthful hijinks. But Diego was still worried about the teenager's propensity for turning to drink every time there was a crisis in his life.

And there had been other distractions. A agitator calling himself the Falcon had come to Los Angeles, giving away stolen silver in order to get the people to overthrow the Alcalde. He had kidnapped Don Alejandro in hopes that Zorro would come to his aid and so he could be eliminated.

Diego shook his head. Everyone knew Ramone was greedy and corrupt. But a revolt by the people was not the way to get rid of him. The governor would mete out harsh punishments to all those who took part in such folly. No, the alcalde needed to be removed by those in authority, not by a mob incited to riot by an outsider.

Then he had saved Ramone's miserable hide once again from a man the commandante had set up to take the fall for his own embezzlement. The man had spent fifteen years plotting his revenge against the man who had not only stolen a shipment of gold, but his reputation and his freedom. Zorro pointed out to Correo, that Ramone wasn't worth going back to prison for.

Diego smiled, however, as he recalled the Vargas brothers. The alcalde had accused Enrique, the younger, smaller brother of robbing twelve thousand pesos from the bank. Nestor, Enrique's older and much, much larger brother had taken exception to the accusation and had tried to break his brother out of jail.

He had had a hard time convincing Nestor to allow his younger sibling to stand trial and be acquitted of the crime. Diego, acting as Enrique's defense attorney, had fortunately uncover Ramón's underhanded dealings concerning the Bank of Los Angeles and had cleared Enrique Vargas's name. Unfortunately, the alcalde overturned the verdict and sentenced him to hang. Nestor, once again, didn't like that, wreaking havoc on the pueblo and on Zorro, who he considered responsible for his brother's incarceration in the first place.

Once everything had been straightened out, the Vargas brothers had left Los Angeles, Enrique a free man and Nestor happy that Zorro was their friend. Diego had also realized he had enjoyed the legal aspects of the case. He also recognized he was something of a dilettante, never focusing on one ability, whether it be painting, poetry, music, science, or whatever caught his fancy at the moment. 

Like the experiment in quantum physics he had duplicated just the week before of a British physicist, Thomas Young. Over a decade earlier, Mister Young had shone one pure color of light through a hole in a screen and onto another screen that had two holes slit into it. Diego wasn't quite sure how to interpret the resulting waves of light but it had been fascinating.

Even the skills he used in his masquerade as Zorro had to be included in his dabbling. Fencing, riding, and being proficient with a whip were things he never really had to work at in order to excel at them.

A loud cry from the bedroom drove Diego's musings from his mind. _Dios_ , it sounded as if Zafira was in agony. He stared at the bedroom door for a few moments before resuming his pacing.

"You're going to wear a rut into the floor," his father said as he approached. Another groan of pain caused both men to halt in their tracks. "It shouldn't be too much longer now," Don Alejandro added. He patted Diego on the shoulder. 

Diego could only nod dumbly. He prayed everything would be all right with the baby. And with his wife. He glanced over at the elder de la Vega and saw underneath his expression of excitement, there was also a layer of concern.

This grandchild meant the world to the old don, he acknowledged. Diego recalled the odd. . .vision, for lack of a better word. . .he had had at Christmastime. An angel named Don Fernando had shown him what life would have been like if Zorro had never existed. A world where his father had been killed by the Alcalde and Felipe was in prison for bank robbery. Where Victoria had become a prostitute. A world where his wife had run off with another man, taking his child with her. He had been alone, utterly alone.

Diego liked to think that his. . .hallucination. . . or whatever it had been, had been caused by the herbal tea he had been drinking to relieve the nasty cold he had had at the time. But the dream had helped to ease his mind about continuing with his charade as the masked avenger of Los Angeles. And it had also made him realize he did still have feelings for Zafira. And that his selfish inclusion of Victoria in his deception had kept her from suffering a tragic fate.

But he refused to involve her anymore. She deserved someone who would love only her. Not someone who was married and about to become a father.

"I wish I had been there when you were born," said his father with a sigh. "You arrived earlier than the doctor thought you would, too." He shook his head. "I had been called away," he explained. "King Carlos had sent me on a special mission to Cadiz."

"I don't think I noticed," commented Diego wryly. 

"No, but your mother did," said the old don. "Sometimes I think she never forgave me for not being there." He smiled sadly. "I didn't get to see you until you were nearly a month old."

Another scream emanating from the room turned both men's attention toward its door. Diego's heart leapt into his throat then dropped down to his stomach as a second yell of pain followed only a moment later. A third cry was even quicker.

Don Alejandro put his hand on Diego's shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "She'll be fine," said the elder de la Vega. He patted his son on the back. "Have you two decided on names?"

"Isabella, if it's a girl," Diego murmured as more shrieks came from the bedchamber. "Ricardo for a boy."

"Isabella?" his father asked, then nodded. "That was your grandmother's name."

" _Si,_ " replied Diego. "It was Zafira's mother's as well."

Neither man remarked on the name selected for a boy. Zafira's brother had become a bone of contention between Diego and his wife almost from the beginning of their marriage. Though, Diego mused, his wife had not thrown the blame of her sibling's death into his face in quite a few months.

Felipe wandered into the hall then, an expression of alarm on his young face. No doubt disturbed by the sounds of agony, thought Diego. The young man glanced up at him and tried to give him a supportive smile.

A long, tormented scream arose from behind the wooden door, followed by the shrill, angry wail of an infant. All three men looked at each other in anticipation.

"Sounds like my grandchild has a good set of lungs," said Don Alejandro proudly.

Diego could only nod absently. _Dios mio_ , he was a father, he told himself as he listened to his child cry. He also could hear the sound of a woman weeping but couldn't tell if it was his wife or Maria, the de la Vega housekeeper who also acted as a midwife for the women not only at the hacienda, but at surrounding ranchos as well.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the bedroom door opened and Doctor Hernandez stepped into the hallway. "Don Diego," he said, a happy grin on his tired face. "Congratulations, you have a daughter."

"A daughter?" Diego reiterated a bit stupidly

The physician stepped aside and let Diego walk into the room. Zafira was lying on the bed, tears streaking down her pale cheeks. Diego directed his eyes to the small bundle she held loosely in her arms.

He moved slowly to the bed then crouched down beside it. Zafira held out the swaddled blanket to him and Diego took the baby into his arms then stood up.

His daughter. His little _princesa_. 

Isabella.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - Another chapter named after one of my favorite TV shows. I snuck in an era appropriate experiment about quantum physics to justify the name. Add the time leap to the end of Zafira's pregnancy and it's a legit title. *grin*


	39. Indissoluble Promises

Diego glanced over at the doctor then down at Zafira. "Is everything all right?" he asked. He gazed at his daughter and noticed that she was quite a robust little thing.

Hernandez smiled. " _Si_ , Don Diego, everything's fine," he replied. "Little Isabella here is very healthy despite coming so early." He looked over at Zafira. "Perhaps our calculations were a bit off?"

"No." Zafira shook her head weakly in protest. "I know when I got pregnant."

Diego tipped his head toward his wife. Yes, she would know exactly when Isabella was conceived. It had only been that one time. Possibly.

The physician fussed about, putting things back into his black bag. "I'll arrange for the niñera to be here within the hour," he said to Zafira, who nodded wearily.

"A niñera?" inquired Diego as he rocked his little daughter in his arms. He turned his eyes to Zafira. "Surely you intend to. . ."

"Only peasant women nurse their own children," his wife said, her voice full of barely concealed scorn. 

Diego was taken aback by her vehement objection to breast-feeding. He hadn't given the subject much thought, he had to admit. He had no idea that women of the so-called upper class wouldn't do it themselves. A picture came unbidden to his mind, of Victoria with an infant at her breast. She looked like a beautiful Madonna, gazing down at her child so lovingly.

He groaned inwardly, erasing the image from his mind then chastising himself. Gazing down at his daughter, Diego studied her little face, with its tiny nose and rosebud mouth. Her blue eyes focused on him and he realized how small and helpless she was. He owed it to her mother to make things right between them. He vowed to make sure Isabella would grow up surrounded by love and happiness.

Sighing, Diego leaned over the bed, intending to slip the niña back into her mother's arms. But Zafira turned onto her side, facing away from him.

"No, you keep her," she said, as she closed her eyes. "I'm too tired.."

Once again Diego was stunned by his wife's seeming indifference to their daughter. He glanced over at Doctor Hernandez, who was holding his bag and was on the verge of leaving.

"It's perfectly normal for the mother to be a bit fatigued for a few days after giving birth," the good doctor advised. "Let Doña Zafira get some rest. She'll be better in no time."

" _Si_ , Doctor," Diego said. " _Gracias_." He escorted the physician to the door of the bedroom where outside in the hallway, an anxious Don Alejandro and Felipe were waiting.

"Let me see my granddaughter," said the old don, reaching out with both hands. Diego passed the bundle of blankets over to his father. Isabella promptly began to wail.

The elder de la Vega chuckled as he gently rocked the little niña in his arms. Diego smiled fondly as he watched as his father fussed over Isabella, finally getting her to quiet down.

Over the next several weeks, Diego spent as much time with his daughter as he could find. Diego knew he was trying to compensate for Zafira's continuing lack of interest in Isabella. She was such a beautiful child and once she had settled down into a routine, a good-natured little girl as well. He couldn't understand why his wife could barely look at the infant, let alone do all the things he thought mothers did instinctly.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "The Devil's Fortress" written by Robert L McCullough]

Isabella was about three months old when Victoria made an unexpected visit to the de la Vega hacienda with some startling news. Diego had been working in the secret cave with Felipe, mixing up batches of chemicals. Don Alejandro had sprained his ankle earlier that morning and was resting in his bedchamber when loud knocks sounded at the front door.

Diego and Felipe immediately departed the cave and rushed to open the door, allowing the lovely innkeeper inside the foyer. "Victoria!" he said, a bit surprised to see her. She still evoked the same reaction that she always had, he mused wistfully, that jolt of longing and desire. "Come in. Forgive the delay."

"Diego, may I please speak to your father?" Victoria asked as she walked further into the hacienda.

He explained to her that the elder de la Vega had injured his ankle falling off his horse, Dulcinea. "What's wrong?" he inquired, his voice reflecting the concern he saw in Victoria's liquid brown eyes.

She held up an envelope which was a bit crumpled and smudged. "I don't know," she stated. "It has something to do with my father." She handed the missive to Diego.

He led her into the library. "Your father?" he asked nonplussed. "I thought he died in Mexico. . .during the revolution." He indicated the nearest chair. "Please sit."

Victoria sat down with a sigh. "Well, that's what we all thought," she began, her tone growing more animated. "But he's alive, Diego. He's a prisoner at Devil's Fortress. The letter will explain it all."

Diego opened the envelope and turned toward the fireplace as he began to peruse the letter that had the señorita in such an agitated state. He was about halfway through it, unable to believe its contents, when Don Alejandro came hobbling toward them, leaning heavily on a cane.

"Victoria!" he exclaimed. "What a pleasant surprise." The old don then plopped down on a settee so that he faced Victoria. He stretched out his linen bound left foot in front of him.

"Victoria has just received this letter," Diego declared, his eyes still skimming its incredulous contents. "From a man who was recently a prisoner of Fortaleza del Diablo."

Don Alejandro expressed his pity and questioned why it was any of Victoria's concern. Reading from the letter, Diego said, "This man claims to have shared a cell with her father."

His father glanced over at the beautiful innkeeper. "Alfonso?" he asked, his voice full of disbelief but in which Diego heard a glimmer of hope. "My old friend is still alive?" Victoria nodded, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Oh, Victoria, my dear, how do you know you can trust the man who wrote the letter?" he queried. 

"He swore to my father he would write to me and my brothers upon his release," she revealed. "And somehow I have to believe him." One of those threatened tears slowly slid down her smooth cheek.

"He says Señor Escalante's health is declining rapidly," Diego supplied, reading again from the tattered paper. A quick look at the top of the page showed it had been written nearly a month earlier. Diego clenched his jaw as he realized that Victoria's father might already be dead. His former cellmate had written he thought the older man wouldn't last much longer.

Victoria was telling the elder de la Vega about the whereabouts of her brothers when Diego's attention wandered back to their conversation. He watched with a heavy heart as she rose from her chair and went over to sit down beside his father.

"Don Alejandro, I can't let my father die in that foul place," she stated with an unspoken plea in her tone.

"Of course not," the old don agreed. "We'll do something. And quickly."

Victoria slid to the edge of her seat. "But what?" she asked. "What can we do?"

Diego knew as he listened to his father wishing he could volunteer himself, that he had be the one to go to the infamous prison and bring back Victoria's father.

"I'll ride to the fortress," he declared in a voice that brooked no argument. But he got one anyway.

"You, Diego?" the elder de la Vega inquired skeptically as Victoria chimed in with a worried, "But. . ."

"Well, it appears I'm the only volunteer," he replied calmly. Diego turned to Felipe, who had been standing in a corner near the fireplace. "Felipe, pack my bags at once."

"Pack your bags?" asked Zafira fretfully as she walked into the library, passing the young man as he left the room. "Where are you going?"

"To rescue Señorita Escalante's father from the Devil's Fortress," replied Diego.

"But you can't leave," his wife said anxiously. "What about the baby? You just can't leave it to go off on some foolish errand."

"I'll only be gone a week, two at most," Diego said. He was quite disturbed Zafira still referred to Isabella as ‘the baby', or worse, ‘it'. Combined with the fact she showed little interest in their daughter, he paused for a moment, wondering if leaving her alone with the niña would be a good idea. Or maybe, he supposed, it would force Zafira to start taking care of little Isabella.

"No, you can't go," reiterated his wife. She whirled around to face her father-in-law, who now stood, awkwardly leaning on his cane. "Tell him, Father. He is needed here." Zafira flicked a disdainful glance in Victoria's direction. "Surely someone else can help her."

"That's just it, my dear," said the old don. "There is no one else Victoria can turn to. Besides, I made a promise to her father before he left Los Angeles that I would keep an eye on her and her brothers." He gestured toward his foot. "And since I'm incapacitated at the moment, it's up to Diego to keep my word of honor."

Zafira looked from Don Alejandro to her husband, her blue eyes bright with tears. "He can't go," she repeated. "I can't. . . I just can't. . ." She turned and fled the library, sobbing loudly.

"Is Doña Zafira all right?" Victoria asked uneasily, glancing up at Diego. "I would understand if you needed to st. . ."

"I said I would go," Diego stated firmly. "We de la Vegas keep our vows." He stepped toward Victoria. "You have been a good and loyal friend to the de la Vegas." He placed his right hand on her left arm, trying vainly to ignore the yearning the small contact caused. "Your family is our family."

Victoria gazed up at him, her eyes full of gratitude and yet confusion. She then encircled her arms around Diego's waist and placed her head on his chest. "Thank you, Diego," she murmured quietly.

Diego was overwhelmed by her embrace as it sent all of his senses spinning out of control and his arms involuntarily slipped around her. It had been over a year since he had held her thus. A year of remembering that brief moment in the courtyard, when she had kissed him and nothing else in the world had mattered but how right it had felt. His arms tightened around her as he closed his eyes, drinking in her closeness. He wondered if she was experiencing the same sensations as he. Or was it just a show of appreciation to her?

The sound of Don Alejandro clearing his throat brought him out of the haze of pleasure that had encompassed him. Diego took a step back, dropping his arms to his sides. Victoria looked up at him, a bewildered expression on her lovely, tear-streaked face. 

"There's not a moment to lose," he declared, attempting to smile at her reassuringly. He walked out of the library, but not before catching the look of warning on the old don's face. Whether his father was cautioning him about the trip he was about to make or about the intimacy he had just shared with Victoria, Diego wasn't sure.

Felipe had several changes of clothing spread out on Diego's bed when he entered his room. "I can finish here," he stated to the young man. "Go to the cave and saddle Toronado."

The youth stared at him questioningly. "I plan to use a false identity as I travel," he explained, revealing the plan that had came to him after his head had cleared on the way to his bedchamber. "But just to be safe, I think Zorro should make the journey south to the fortress as well." He grinned at Felipe mischievously.

The lad smiled back then left the room. Diego quickly threw a few of his clothes into the satchel. He wanted to travel as swiftly and as unencumbered as possible. Tossing a few more items in the bag, he then closed it and turned to leave. Zafira blocked the doorway.

"You cannot do this," she stated. "You can't leave me here by myself."

"Zafira," he said in exasperation. "You'll hardly be alone. My father and the servants will all be here. Señora Batido, too." He knew the niñera would keep a close watch on Isabella. The plump nurse loved the little girl as if she were her own child.

"But. . ." Zafira bit her lip and waved her hands agitatedly. "But what if she cries? I don't know what to do."

Diego stared at his wife and realized she was completely distraught by the idea of having to spend time with her daughter. Shaking his head, he thought he had never met such an unnatural mother.

"Do what you've been doing," he instructed. "Let someone else take care of Isabella."

He tightened his grip on his satchel and moved toward her. She refused to budge, instead looking up at him with pleading blue eyes.

"Diego, _por favor_ ," she begged tearfully. "Don't leave me."

"I have to do this." He bent down and kissed her damp cheek. "I'll be back before you even miss me."

Zafira jerked away from him then glared up at him, her face marred with anger. "I won't miss you at all, Diego," she declared adamantly. She then laughed wildly before turning and leaving his room.

Diego just stared after her for a few moments. Shaking his head, he went into the hallway and to the nursery, where he said goodbye to Isabella.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "The Devil's Fortress" written by Robert L McCullough]

"And please let me see my father again."

Zorro stepped out of the shadows and made his presence known to Victoria, who was praying before a statue of the Virgin Mary at a side altar inside the Mission church. "I pledge that you shall, Señorita," he vowed, breaking his oath to stay out of her life.

"Zorro." His name came out as a breathless whisper as Victoria got to her feet and came toward him.

"If it is within the power of man," he declared solemnly, trying not to let her nearness affect him. "I will bring your father home.

"Promise to come back quickly," she requested tearfully.

Zorro touched his gloved hand to her cheek, the slight contact making his body harden with desire. "Why would a man not hurry home with such beauty awaiting him at the end of his journey?" He reached out and grasped both of her hands, bringing them to his lips. " _Adios_."

He left go of her and started to leave but Victoria stopped him by grabbing his hands. "Take care of Don Diego," she asked, gazing up at him pleadingly. He saw the fear and confusion in her lovely brown eyes. Fear that her friend might be out of his league and might get hurt. And confusion the feelings that she harbored for him were more than just friendship.

"He will never be out of my sight," Zorro promised with a wry grin.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - A lot of promises were made in this chapter. But the one Don Alejandro made to Victoria's father is the most important and one the de la Vegas refused to dissolve.


	40. Give the Devil His Due

[parts of the following scene taken from "The Devil's Fortress" written by Robert L McCullough]

Diego rode the cleverly disguised Toronado to the top of a ridge before coming to a halt. He had ridden hard for three days and was now only a few hours away from his destination. So far, the journey had gone smoothly.

That all changed a moment later when he heard two gunshots ring out. Diego turned around and watched as two men on horseback rode straight for a stagecoach passing by on the road down below. More shots were fired.

"It looks like there's work for Zorro everywhere, old boy," Diego commented as he patted his stallion on the head. Toronado tossed his mane and whinnied loudly.

Within minutes, Zorro had taken care of one of the bandits, knocking him from his horse. The second thief was dispatched just as quickly. The coach, whose driver had been knifed in the back, was being pulled along at a high speed by the frantic horses. Zorro managed to get them back under control and quickly brought the conveyance to a shuddering stop.

Concerned about the vehicle's occupants, he dismounted the bandit's horse he had been riding and opened the coach's door. He scanned its dark interior and saw that it held only one passenger. A passenger who offered him her white-gloved hand.

"I am Rosalinda de la Fuente," she announced imperiously as she stepped out of the coach with Zorro's assistance. Her eyes swept down his length then back up again. "To whom do I owe my deliverance?" she asked condescendingly.

"A thousand pardons, Señorita," he replied. "Zorro, at your service." He bowed gallantly over her right hand which he still held. He saw that she was quite lovely and his treacherous body began to stir with lust

Rosalinda's voice broke through his fight for self-control. "The fox?" she inquired. "I've heard of such a man." She tossed her head. "But you could not possibly be that Zorro," she declared decisively.

"And why is that, Señorita?" the masked man asked.

The young woman moved a step closer to him. "They say he is a notorious outlaw with a price on his head," she explained, gazing up into his eyes then giving him a teasing smile.

He took a deep breath and caught a whiff of her perfume. It was a heady scent and it made his already overloaded senses reel. Giving his head a little shake, he grinned down at her. "That must be another Zorro." he bantered.

"Just so," said the bold señorita. "I mean what would he be doing this far south?"

"Evil and injustice are not confined to Los Angeles," he replied to her query of his appearance so far south. "Besides, this Zorro you've heard about is really not such a bad fellow."

Rosalinda reached out with a gloved finger and ran it down his chest. He could feel the heat of her touch scorching him through his silk shirt and had to stifle a deep groan. "Clearly," she purred, running her finger back up his torso, "if he would risk his life to save a stranger."

"And may I say, a very beautiful one," Zorro responded hoarsely. It was because of her looks his body was reacting the way it was, he told himself. And her bravery in the face of danger. And the air of independence and a spirited nature he could sense surrounding her. She was a very confident and poised young lady. Much like Victoria. And like how Zafira had been when they had first met.

He realized that all the women he was drawn to, and that included Amanda Herrera, were cut from the same cloth. But before he had time to contemplate his discovery, Rosalinda waved a white lacy handkerchief at him. Its scent matched the one she wore and his body tightened.

"Please accept this as a reward for your chivalry," she entreated him with a dazzling smile. Zorro took the dainty cloth then pulled her gloved hand to his lips.

He lifted his head and gazed into her dark eyes. "You are too kind," he declared, staring at her unabashedly. It was taking quite an effort to keep from kissing more than just her fingers. He let go of her hand. "I must go."

After reassuring her help was on the way, he mounted the bandit's horse and rode off. It was nearly two hours later, after he had rounded up the robbers and had buried Rosalinda's driver, that Diego de la Vega, astride the camouflaged Toronado, rode up to the lovely young lady who was waiting impatiently by her stranded coach.

Diego was never quite sure of what had happened next. One minute he had been driving the coach toward Devil's Fortress, the next he was placed under arrest, accused of being Zorro. He glared over at Rosalinda as several soldiers aimed their sharp swords at his chest.

"I'm afraid you're making a grave mistake, Señorita," Diego commented as he held up both hands. 

Rosalinda passed behind him as she circled around him. "Oh, no," she replied smugly, "it was you who made the error. I gave the handkerchief to Zorro." She walked over to where a nervously twitching Toronado was standing, and placed her gloved hand on his neck. "It was scented with perfume from the Paris house of Sorbonne. Very expensive and very rare." She sniffed delicately. "Now, either it is in here," she stated as she patted one of the stallion's saddlebags, "or you have the sweetest smelling horse in Mexico, Señor Guilerans."

Diego was extremely glad he had given the ungrateful harpy a false name. He also noted that all of these women he was attracted to ended up being heartless and unpleasant females. With the exception of Victoria, of course. Maybe that was why the pull of attraction to her was still so strong. She had yet had the chance to let him down.

He narrowed his eyes as he looked over at Rosalinda, who was now standing next to her sergeant. "Well," he began, "even assuming I was this bandit, which I'm not, why would you have me arrested? You just told me he saved your life."

The soldier expressed his incredulousness at this and Diego was confused by his amusement. Then the double-crossing señorita revealed she was the daughter of the very man he was on his way to see. The commandante of Devil's Fortress, Manolo de la Fuente.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "The Devil's Fortress" written by Robert L McCullough]

It had been embarrassingly easy to escape from the merciless Rosalinda's clutches. Although his body still felt a bit tender from when he had hurtled himself from the moving coach before disappearing into the darkness. Fortunately, the faithful Toronado had been following and replied quickly to Diego's summoning whistle. 

The next morning, Zorro snuck through the shrubbery that surrounded the base of the imposing fortress walls. Since, he, as Señor Guilerans, would no longer be welcomed as a guest at the prison; he would have to enter the massive stone building as the man in black.

"Attention!" Zorro ducked behind a low hedge as several of the fortress's guards came running in his direction. He sighed with relief as they ran past him. Then the hairs on the back of his neck began to prickle. He reached back with his right hand and grabbed onto a solid, muscular arm. Zorro flipped the man onto his back onto the ground, then pounced on top of him.

That was when he got a good look at his would-be attacker. "Ramon?"

"Zorro!" exclaimed Ramon Escalante as he stopped struggling. It had been nearly ten years since Zorro had seen the younger of Victoria's two brothers, but he would have recognized him anywhere. His eyes were Victoria's eyes. 

Painful pressure on his ribs caused the masked man to wince, which he then covered up with a chuckle. "Could you remove your knee from my rib cage, amigo?" he asked.

Soon both men were crouched down behind the hedge, watching the movements of the guards. Ramon explained that he had met up with the mail wagon that had contained a letter from his sister. 

"I'm glad she's such a faithful correspondent," commented Zorro. "It'd be good to have an ally in this task." 

Ramon nodded as he scanned the prison's walls. "I've been watching this fortress for two days," he stated. "They've doubled up the guards at every station since last night."

"I'm not surprised," said Zorro wryly. "Not after my encounter with the commandant's daughter." He looked over at Ramon and smiled. "A lady with all the charm of a ravenous barracuda."

"We must wait until dark," Ramon advised.

Zorro shook his head. "No. That's what they expect. We must seize the initiative. Attack now." He beckoned with his right hand. "Come on."

He lead Ramon over to where Toronado was staked out next to a tree. "By the way," Zorro asked curiously. "How did you know who I am?"

Ramon chuckled as he walked over to where his own horse was waiting. "Victoria," he replied. "She's written so many letters describing you and your exploits I feel I've known you all my life."

The man in black bent down and pretend to adjust the stirrup, not wanting the other man to see the guilty expression on his face. Ramon had known Diego all his life, at least until he and Francisco had left Los Angeles anyway.

"She's also written about her feelings for you," Ramon continued. Zorro turned even deeper into his stallion's side. "She holds you in great esteem."

"As I do her," the masked man mumbled. He really didn't want to get into this conversation at the moment. They had more important matters at hand, like breeching the Fortaleza del Diablo's formidable defenses. Zorro stood up and looked over at Ramon. "I need to you to get some things from the nearest town." 

He reached into his saddlebag and brought out paper, ink, and a quill then began scratching out a list. When he was done, he handed it to Ramon, who read it and smiled.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scenes taken from "The Devil's Fortress" written by Robert L McCullough]

It was a couple of hours later after Ramon had returned from the small village that serviced the people who worked at the prison and after Zorro had time to concoct a smoke bomb from the materials Victoria's brother had brought back with him.

It had been an interminable wait during which the masked man had gone over his plan, step by step, making sure all contingencies were covered. It was all the more incongruous that the next hour had sped by so fast, packed with enough events it made his head dizzy.

The most shocking thing had been seeing Victoria in the prison's dungeon, knocking down the treacherous Rosalinda with nothing more than a broom. The fact that she was even there would have been incredulous enough. But the sight of her, flushed with exertion as she defeated the other woman, had been almost more than he could absorb.

"An Escalante down to her fingertips!" her brother had said with pride as Zorro couldn't repress a grin as he watched her startled expression.

"Ramon!" Victoria tossed aside the broom and ran over to Ramon with her arms outstretched. When the siblings had finished their embrace, she turned her face to Zorro, who had been standing there quietly taking in their reunion. "I knew you would come," she said quietly, her love for him shining brightly in her eyes.

"Always for you, Señorita," he murmured huskily, fighting the desire to take her into his arms and kiss her. He cleared his throat. "Come," he added more authoritatively, "we must hurry."

He stood back as the two Escalantes unlocked the cell containing their father. He watched with a heavy heart as he saw how ill Alfonso Escalante really was. There was no possible way for this broken old man to make the trip back to Los Angeles alive.

Everything after that was a blur. The guards had discovered their location and Zorro fended off soldier after soldier, allowing Victoria and Ramon more time with their dying parent. He was surprised by the ease of which he despatched each of the prison's guard. Evidently they had grown soft as the fortress had never been invaded like this before.

Zorro drove them back up the winding staircase, taking out two or three at a time as he ascended. The appearance of Sergeant Mendoza only amazed him for a brief moment. He was at the point now where nothing would be out of the realm of possibility. He thrust out the ring of keys to the stunned lancer.

"Here, Sergeant," he instructed, "free all the prisoners." When Mendoza started to protest, he added, "Don't argue, Sergeant. It may be the only way we can get out of here alive."

He didn't even question the soldier would follow his command, especially after he spied a man lying under a couple of unconscious guards, a man who was dressed in a splendid white and blue uniform, glittering with gold braid and buttons. No doubt the perfidious Rosalinda's papa, the commandante of Fortaleza del Diablo.

A mighty duel followed, with Señor de la Fuente being a admirable opponent. Zorro hadn't enjoyed such swordplay since Sir Edmund's untimely death. But time was of the essence, and he made short work of the other man, sending the commandante's sword flying before slashing a ‘Z' into the man's uniform. A punch to de la Fuente's face sent the man sprawling face down on the floor. 

A gasp made Zorro look upward. Rosalinda stared down at him, her mouth gaping. Zorro took out the perfumed handkerchief that had nearly been his downfall.

"I cannot keep something given by someone so treacherous," he declared before dramatically tossing the offensive scrap of cotton and lace onto the floor. Victoria, her brother, and Mendoza came bounding into the great hall.

Zorro turned and Victoria flew into his arms. He held her, never wanting to let her go. It was time to leave Devil's Fortress, he thought as he started to lead the trembling innkeeper away.

The commandante began shouting and the man in black turned to see Rosalinda aiming a pistol at him and Victoria . But before he could do anything, Ramone (whose presence at the prison didn't seem at all out of place) came up behind her, joining her father in urging her to kill the masked man.

When the deceitful woman didn't immediately acquiesce, the alcalde tried to wrest the weapon from her hands, most likely intending to shoot Zorro himself. All he accomplished, however, was to cause Rosalinda to lose her balance and fall over the top of the balcony railing. She landed on the floor with a dull thud, the pistol clattering beside her.

Zorro stared in horror at the dead woman before looking up into the crazed face of Luis Ramone. His gaze caught the man in black's then he turned and ran away.

Zorro went gone off in pursuit of Ramone, knowing instinctive the other man wasn't there to help Victoria find her father. That belief was reinforced when he saw the deed room had been pilfered.

He made his way upward until he reached the topmost level. A door at the end of the corridor stood ajar and Zorro made his way toward it cautiously. It lead to a small balcony on the roof. The masked man noticed a black-gloved hand clinging to the ledge. 

Even though it felt as time was standing still, everything had happened so fast. One moment Zorro had been demanding that the alcalde hand over the deed he had stolen, which he knew without even looking at it was the land grant given to his grandfather, Sebastian de la Vega. The next minute, Ramone had ripped his hat and mask from his head and stared disbelieving at his exposed face.

"De la Vega?" The incredulity in the alcalde's voice echoed his expression. Diego realized, just a split second before Ramone did, that he had let go of the ledge. Diego rushed over and reached out a hand but it was too late. The alcalde was already falling.

"Nooo!" the doomed man cried in frustrated fear as he uttered his last words. "I should have known!"

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - ‘Give the Devil his due' is an idiom meaning to give credit for what is good in a disliked or malevolent person. 
> 
> In this case, however, the devil was the Devil's Fortress and it's due was the death of Luis Ramone, a very disliked and malevolent person.


	41. Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow

Diego looked downward as a warm breeze caressed his bare face. Luis Ramone had finally unmasked Zorro. Had finally learned the bandit who had plagued him for the last four years had been none other than Diego de la Vega.

And it was knowledge the alcalde would take to his grave. Diego stared at the man lying on the cobbled stones below. Ramón was dead, he realized as he observed the halo of blood around the erstwhile commandante's head and the unnatural angles of his arms and legs.

Diego saw the black silk mask and the black felt sombrero were still clutched in the dead man's right hand. Bile began to rise in his throat. He choked it back down and turned away, remembering the tasks he still had to face.

Thankfully, he met no one as he rushed through the fortress. The smoke bomb he had tossed into an open window had done its job of clearing everyone from the prison. Diego made his way to the courtyard where the alcalde had met his demise. Again, a wave of nausea and guilt swept over him as he gazed upon Ramone's lifeless body. Gritting his teeth, he bent down and retrieved his hat and mask then the deed to the de la Vega hacienda which had slipped out of the other man's limp hand.

Zorro quickly retied his mask as he heard voices coming nearer on the other side of the tall hedge separating the tiny courtyard from the rest of the prison's grounds. He walked over to a small break in the bushes just as the litter bearing Alfonso Escalante passed in front of him. Sergeant Mendoza and Victoria's brother, Ramon, were carrying the stretcher, assisted by the two prisoners who had shared Señor Escalante's cell. 

Victoria walked along beside, holding her father's hand. Zorro could tell by the sad expression on her beautiful face he, too, has passed from this world.

He waited until the solemn procession had passed him before he slipped through the narrow gap and fell in at the rear of the grieving group.

Three deaths, he thought wearily. Of course, Señor Escalante's death had been imminent, had been expected. Hence the reason for his and the others's trip to La Fortaleza del Diablo. But the other two. . .Rosalinda and Ramone. . . Neither of them had needed to die. And he knew he was responsible in some way for both deaths.

Victoria and the others had reached the front of the prison and came to a halt. She turned and faced Zorro. "We need a wagon," she stated.

"A wagon, Señorita?" queried Mendoza. 

" _Si_ , Sergeant," she replied. "We're taking my father back to Los Angeles."

"Victoria," began her brother, "it's at least a four day ride back to the pueblo. We can't. . . I mean, Papa. . ." Ramon looked away, obviously unable to voice the rest of his objections.

"I'll get a wagon," said Zorro. He took the few steps dividing him from Victoria and lifted her hand. "I'm truly sorry, Señorita," he said. "And you still have my word I will do want ever it takes to ensure your father makes it back to Los Angeles."

" _Gracias_ ," she responded automatically, her eyes glistening with tears. 

"I'll go fetch that wagon," Zorro said before kissing her hand reverently.

"Where's the alcalde?" asked Mendoza as the man in black began to walk away. Zorro paused in his tracks, bowing his head then looking upward.

"He's dead," he declared baldly. "He fell off one of the fortress's towers."

"D-D-Dead?" asked the incredulous sergeant. "He fell off a tower? W-What was he doing up there?"

"He was stealing land grants from the deed room," Zorro explained, deciding not to mention it had been his family's documents with which Ramone had been trying to abscond.

"I knew he was up to no good," said Mendoza as he removed his hat then made the sign of the cross. "Where is the body?"

"Back there," the masked man turned and pointed. "Just inside that hedge." He saw the struggle the soldier was having with his emotions over the alcalde's death. "What are your intentions, Sergeant?"

"His family is in Mexico City," said the sergeant. "He hates, I mean hated, Los Angeles." He shook his head. "I don't know, Zorro. Do you think it would all right if he was buried here?"

"If you think that would be best, Sergeant," Zorro replied. "I shall leave you to make the arrangements."

The soldier nodded then placed his hat back onto his head and motioned to the two former prisoners. "Come with me."

Zorro took one end of the litter bearing Señor Escalante and Ramon grabbed hold of the other as Mendoza and the other men went to go retrieve Luis Ramón's body.

It wasn't until later that evening when the four Angelenos had stopped for the night that Zorro had a chance to speak with Victoria again. She, Ramon, and Mendoza had secured rooms for the night at a small inn. Of course, Zorro couldn't stay with them, instead hiding out at the stables with the wagon and Señor Escalante's coffin.

He was attending to Toronado when Victoria walked into the stables, carrying a cloth covered tray. "I brought you some supper," she explained with a smile.

" _Gracias_." He took the tray from her and set it down on a hay bale and removed the napkin. A bowl of _albondigas_ soup, bread, a serving of flan, and a glass of lemonade stared up at him. Zorro slid Victoria a surreptitious glance. All of Diego's favorite foods. 

"It was all they had left," she said a bit nervously. "I mean, I don't know what you like. . ."

"It's perfect," the man in black replied, grinning with relief. "Thank you."

He indicated the stack of bales then helped her get seated before he sat down beside her. He placed the tray on his lap and took a spoonful of the soup. Not bad, he thought. Not as good as the woman next to him made, but adequate.

They sat quietly, side by side, while Zorro ate his meal. When he was done, he put the tray aside then reached for Victoria's hand. She didn't look up at him but grasped his hand tightly. Neither of them spoke but the silence wasn't awkward. It just felt right; peaceful and intimate.

"Victoria," he said after several minutes, giving her hand a squeeze, "I'm so sorry."

"It's all right, Zorro," she replied stoically. She took a deep breath. "It's just so hard, you know. I thought he was dead all these years and I had made my peace with that. But then to see him alive again then. . ." She swallowed back her tears. "Well, it's just ripped everything open again."

Zorro nodded. He knew he would feel the same way if it had been his father. To have grieved and finally accepted the death of a loved one, then to have to watch him die all over again.

"I was so mad at him when he left after Mama was killed,"Victoria said, staring at the opposite wall. "I was so alone and so scared." She wiped at her eyes with her free hand. "I. . .I hated him for deserting me. But I loved him too."

She dissolved into tears then and Zorro took her gently into his arms. The front of his shirt grew damp as she wept. He patted her on the back as he placed a kiss the top of her head. His poor, brave, beautiful Victoria. She snuggled up against his chest as her sobbing subsided. Her hands slid around to his back.

His body tightened instantly. Zorro glanced down at her as she gazed up at him with her tear-stained face. It was so tempting to give her what her shimmering eyes were begging for and his mouth moved towards hers for a second. 

A wave of regret washed over him as he pulled back away from her, making him wish he had never laid eyes on Zafira. That he had returned to California a free man. A man who could have pursued and wed the lovely innkeeper.

Then he remembered Isabella and he was consumed with guilt. He would not trade his daughter for anything, or anyone, in the world. He slowly pulled away from Victoria and helped her dry her face.

"I'm so sorry," he reiterated, knowing that his words were inadequate. And he was sorry for much more than her father's death. He was sorry he couldn't be the man she wanted him to be. And sorry he had duped her all these years. 

Victoria nodded, obviously unable to speak as she wiped her wet cheeks. Zorro hopped down off the bale and helped her down before moving what he hoped was a safe distance away.

"I, um. . ." he began, slightly worried by her reaction to what he was about to say. "I won't be able to travel with you, Ramon, and Mendoza the rest of the way back to the pueblo." He held up his hand as she opened her mouth to object. "I will continue keep on watch over you, however," he clarified. He indicated his mask and the rest of his costume. "I don't want to bring any more trouble to you."

"It would be no trouble," Victoria declared earnestly. "You could do as you did today. Hiding whenever we chanced upon other travelers."

Zorro shook his head. "It would only be a matter of time until someone spied me riding with you," he said, "and tried to turn me over to the authorities." Taking a deep breath, he realized he had to tell her he could no longer allow her to think of him as a suitor. He owed it to his wife and child. He owed it to her. He looked down at his hands and noticed they were shaking. "Victoria, you need to find someone who is more worthy of you than myself," he stated.

"But. . ." The protest died on her lips as she stared into his eyes. 

"I know this is a bit harsh, considering all that has happened." He turned away, unable to look at her beautifully sad countenance. "But you're truly alone now. And you need a family. One that I will never be able to provide you."

He turned back around and watched helplessly as tears began streaking down her face again. "I'm truly sorry, Victoria. But it's for the best. One day you'll see that I'm right."

She snatched the tray off the hay bale. "And one day you'll know that I'm right," she retorted passionately. "We were meant to be. I know it as sure as I know my name. _Buenas noches_."

She spun around and stormed out of the stables. He could hear things falling off the tray as she walked away. Zorro shook his head once more. Stubborn little fool, he thought ruefully although he conceded he was the one to blame. He never should have led her on, never should have let her think there could ever be anything between them.

Zorro went back over to Toronado and picked up the currying brush, resuming with a heavy heart his grooming of the Andalusian Victoria's visit had interrupted.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scenes taken from "The Devil's Fortress" written by Robert L McCullough]

"Diego!" his father shouted. "Look at you! What happened to you?"

Diego wished he was a betting man because he had guessed what the elder de la Vega was going to say when he walked through the door of the hacienda almost to the word. He had dirtied his clothing and face, torn his clothes (in mendable places, of course), and had mussed his hair. Staggering into the foyer was the finishing touch, he thought as he repressed a grin.

"I'm afraid I got lost," he explained sheepishly.

"What do you mean you got lost?" asked Don Alejandro incredulously. Diego winced inwardly as he saw the glimpse of disappointment in his father's eyes. Telling himself it was all part of the charade, Diego sighed dramatically as he shrugged.

"Well, you're back and that's all that matters, son," the old don said graciously. 

"Well, look who's back," announced Zafira as she strolled into the hacienda through the front door, dressed in her riding habit and carrying a crop. "Where have you been?" she asked, glaring at him suspiciously. "The Escalante woman and the others arrived back days ago."

"He got lost," stated Don Alejandro. 

"Lost?" she echoed as she yanked off her gloves. "Why doesn't that surprise me?"

"How is Isabella?" Diego asked, a bit concerned by the coldness of his wife's demeanor. 

He had wanted to return home immediately but knew that it would appear suspect if both Diego and Zorro arrived back in Los Angeles at the same time as the others. Instead he had spent several days in San Pedro, holed up in a tiny inn by the waterfront. There he had read, composed a couple of poems, and drank a little more than he should have on more than one occasion. 

He usually abstained from spirits, as he liked to keep his wits about him. He had seen too many men in their cups spill their most intimate secrets, something he could not normally afford to do. But, alone in his small room overlooking the harbor, it had seemed harmless to drown his sorrows in a bottle or two of wine. Unfortunately, all the alcohol did was to give a sore head and a sour stomach.

It had done nothing to assuage the guilt that ate at him over Rosalinda's and Ramone's deaths. Then he had had to hurt Victoria and at a time she was already distressed over her father's passing. But, he told himself over and over again, it was for the best. He had a wife and a child. It was time she got on with her life. Even if seeing her married to another man, bearing another man's children, would be like a knife in his heart, it was something he was going to have to suffer through.

"She's fine, Diego," his father replied. "She's learned to roll over, the little rascal."

"She didn't even notice you were gone," Zafira said with a spiteful gleam in her icy blue eyes. She turned on her heel and headed toward her room.

The elder de la Vega shook his head. "I don't know what's gotten into her lately," he began. "She's been awful moody." He glanced at his son inquisitively. "She's not, you know. . .expecting again already, is she?"

"No," Diego said forcefully. He hadn't touched her in more than a year, not since that night their daughter was conceived. Unless it was the second occurrence of an immaculate conception, Zafira was definitely not pregnant.

"Oh, well," sighed his father. He clapped Diego on the shoulder as Felipe came into the room. "Oh, I've got to tell you what happened at Devil's Fortress," he stated excitedly.

Felipe looked up at Diego with a smile. The young man no doubt knew that the story circulating about the pueblo was only about half true. They both started to follow Don Alejandro as he walked toward the library.

"I'll tell you what happened at Devil's Fortress," Diego told Felipe in a low voice. The youth grinned broadly as they sat down in the library to listen to a garbled version of the real story.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - This title is a famous line from William Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet. "Good night! Good night! Parting is such sweet sorrow, that I should say good night till it be morrow". 
> 
> There's a lot of sorrow in this chapter, especially because of the death of Señor Escalante. Zorro/Diego decides to part ways from the others on the way back to Los Angeles and also to part ways with Victoria, no longer able let her believe they could have a future together.


	42. For Better or Worse

** Six Months Later **

[parts of the following scene taken from "The New Broom" written by Philip John Taylor]

Diego stood on the tavern porch with his father, Zafira, and Sergeant Mendoza as they waited for the arrival of the new alcalde of Los Angeles. Diego bounced the nine-month old Isabella in his arms, smiling at her as she bubbled with happiness.

"Pa," she gurgled. "Papapapa."

"That's right," Diego replied, tickling the little girl under her plump chin. "I'm your papa."

Zafira glanced in their direction and rolled her eyes. Diego could never figure out if she was jealous of the close bond he shared with their daughter or if her lack of interest caused her to be disgusted by the outpouring of affection he showered on Isabella. 

He sensed rather than saw Victoria's entrance onto the porch as his father and Mendoza exchanged their opinions of what the new commandante would be like. Zorro had been true to his word and had stayed away from the lovely innkeeper. Actually, it had been easy, since the masked man's presence had rarely been required the past six months. At first she had seemed upset but lately she seemed to have come to terms with the distance the man in black had put between them.

Victoria came up beside him, causing a frisson of awareness down his spine. But she only had eyes for the child in his arms, sticking out a finger in Isabella's direction. "She gets bigger every time I see her," she commented as she gazed at the niña wistfully. The infant grabbed her finger and shook it. "Pa," she said. "Papapa."

Diego chuckled. "And here I thought I was special," he stated. Victoria laughed as well and suddenly a image of the three of them, together as a family, flashed through his mind. He groaned inwardly as a pang of longing the vision created rose up within him.

He was grateful for the sight of Felipe running up to the tavern, drawing everyone's attention as did the rumbling of the stagecoach as it rolled into the plaza. Mendoza stepped off the porch and looked upward, signaling to the musicians on the tavern's balcony. The trio started playing as the coach shuddered to a halt in front of the inn. The sergeant ran over to the conveyance and opened its door.

"Welcome to Los Angeles, Alcalde," he said in his most authoritative voice. Everyone was stunned as a man dressed in dirty old clothes stumbled out of the coach. "You're not the new alcalde!" Mendoza shouted accusingly. "You're Juan the coach driver!"

The man sitting in the vehicle's driving seat chuckled. "He _was_ the coach driver," he declared, his face covered by the old hat he wore. "He should have been pensioned off years ago. After we were passed by a burro and two tortoises, I decided to take the reins myself."

Diego stared up at the man curiously as the townspeople laughed. Something about him seemed familiar. The pueblo had been given no clue to their new official's identity, just a message informing them of when he would arrive. 

Diego hoped this alcalde would be a reasonable man and the masked man could retire forever. And he wanted to get off on the right foot with the man, appearing to be a happily married family man with his wife and child by his side. Not someone that would be suspected of being a wanted outlaw with a price on his head.

Diego watched as the man on the stagecoach stood up and flung off Juan the driver's dusty old coat, displaying the military uniform beneath. "I am your new alcalde," he announced.

_Madre de Dios!_ Diego stared up incredulously at the face of Ignacio de Soto, an old classmate of his from the university. Of all the twists of fate. . .

"Ignacio?" Diego stepped forward as he looked up at his former schoolmate in disbelief.

De Soto stared down at him, the surprise evident in his eyes.

"Diego? Diego de la Vega?" The new alcalde placed a hat adorned with a fluffy white feather on his head before jumping down out of the driver's seat. "Diego de la Vega, after all these years," he said as he extended his white-gloved hand. He then indicated Isabella. "And who is this?"

"Oh, forgive me," Diego apologized. He put his hand on Zafira's back and moved her up to his side. "This is my wife, Zafira," he declared, "and this is our daughter, Isabella."

"Ah, a family man, eh, Diego?" de Soto asked rhetorically. Diego introduced him to his father and Victoria. The commandante lingered over Victoria's hand as he placed a courtesy kiss upon it. Diego remembered Ignacio had considered himself quite the ladies' man while at university. But that knowledge did not alleviate the jealousy that rose up in him as the other man held onto Victoria's hand.

After de Soto had called the garrison together for his inspection, the others questioned Diego about their new leader. Diego tried to recall what he could about the upper class man who had been in his senior year when he had been a freshman. They had had only one class together that common year, drama. And Ignacio had played Judas to Diego's Jesus in an enactment of the Passion Play. 

"Come on, Diego, you've met him before," his father said impatiently. "What kind of man is he?"

"Ignacio was on a scholarship," stated Diego, suddenly remembering that bit of information.

"He was a charity case?" asked Zafira. She glanced over at de Soto who was addressing his new charges. "No wonder he's trying so hard to pretend he's like the rest of us." She threw a scornful look at Victoria.

Diego ignored his wife's comments. He hadn't realized she was such an elitist. Evidently the group of revolutionaries her brother had been involved with had only been fighting for the concerns of the upper classes. "His father was a farmer, I believe," he said. "He succeeded through sheer ability. He should be very sympathetic to the problems of the poor."

"Or he might distance himself from what he once was," Victoria said worriedly. "Some people forget where they came from."

"That's true," agreed Zafira. She stared coolly at the innkeeper. "Some people overreach their position and think they're better than they will truly ever be.

Diego saw Victoria was about to literally, if not figuratively, unleash her claws on his wife and decided to intervene, stepping in between the two women.

"We might finally have the right man for the job," he announced confidently as he observed his old classmate follow Sergeant Mendoza to the cuartel, not knowing that later that evening, he would be eating those words.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "The New Broom" written by Philip John Taylor]

The evening had started out pleasant enough. The elder de la Vega had invited the new alcalde and about twenty of the pueblo's leading citizens to dinner at the hacienda as a gesture of welcome. The meal had been superb, roast beef and pheasant, walnut mousse, and a corn salad that was the de la Vegas's housekeeper's speciality. Victoria had contributed several pans of her excellent flan.

After everyone had eaten their fill, glasses of wine and other drinks were passed around as the guests mingled. De Soto, of course, was the guest of honor and did his duty, chatting politely with all present. That was, however, until he and Don Alejandro exchanged heated words about the deceased former alcalde and the new commandante made his stunning pronouncement.

"Your former alcalde suspected everyone in this room at one time or another with being in league with Zorro," announced de Soto loudly so everyone in the room could hear him. "Therefore, no one shall leave this hacienda until Zorro is apprehended."

All the guests gasped in shock. Don Alejandro, who had been arguing with the Alcalde, recovered his composure first. "You can't hold us indefinitely," he stated boldly

De Soto shook his head. "Oh, no, no, no," he replied. "You misunderstand, Don Alejandro. I can do anything I want to do. Madrid is eight thousand miles away." He grasped the hilt of his sword, for the moment remaining in its scabbard. "I am the only law here! And this pueblo has been nothing but trouble to the Spanish Crown."

Diego walked up to his old classmate, standing directly in front of him. He felt as though the other man had betrayed him. All his dreams of a simple life blew away in a cloud of smoke. "You really don't understand, do you?" he asked impassionedly. "The people of this pueblo will not be a stepping stone for corruption, ambition, or greed.

Ignacio glared at Diego, an icy warning in his pale eyes. "You will all be free to go once Zorro is apprehended," he proclaimed. He looked around the hacienda challengingly. "Until that time, I suggest you make yourselves comfortable."

He turned toward the front door. But Zafira impeded his progress.

"What do you mean, we can't leave?" she demanded a bit hysterically

"I mean, Señora de la Vega," de Soto answered calmly, "nobody goes out, nobody comes in." 

"But I need to go for my ride every day," Zafira whinged.

"Then I suggest you pray that Zorro shows himself quickly," the Alcalde advised with a sneer. He then moved around the woman in his path and marched away, calling out "Mendoza!"

Don Alejandro came up beside Diego's left side and Victoria to his right. "Well, Diego," he said with more than a little sarcasm in his tone, "you still think your ‘friend' is the right man for the job."

Diego felt ill. "No," he responded dully. "He's obviously nothing like the student I knew in Madrid."

"He can't be serious," Victoria chimed in. "We all can't stay here. I mean, no offense, Don Alejandro, but this hacienda isn't large enough to hold everyone here tonight."

"No, you're right, my dear," the elder de la Vega conceded, grimacing at being reminded he was now the host of twenty overnight guests for who knew how long. "It will take some doing, but I think we can make it work." He grasped Diego's left shoulder. "Find Maria. Tell her to make sure all the guest rooms are prepared and to lay her hands on whatever bedding and blankets she can find."

" _Si_ , Father." Diego, glad to have something to do, immediately went in search of the de la Vega housekeeper.

The next several hours were spend in the flurry of activity of getting everyone settled in for the night. Diego hadn't seen either Zafira or Victoria for the past hour and wondered where they were. He had gone to the nursery to tuck in Isabella for the night. The niñera, who was going to sleep on a pallet on the floor next to his daughter's crib since she had given up her tiny room to some of the guests, told him the señora had not been in all evening.

Diego was hardly surprised. Zafira rarely checked on their child, saying she was in good hands with Señora Batido. Again, he shook his head at her unnatural behavior as he walked down the corridor to his bedroom. He opened the door and was greeted by a high pitched squeal.

One of the female guests, an older widow, stood next to his bed, clasping a blanket to her still clad bosom. He glanced over to the other side of the mattress and his eyes nearly popped from their sockets. Victoria, dressed only in a chemise and petticoat, stared back at him, her eyes round with surprise.

"Diego!"

At the sound of his wife's sharp voice, Diego tore his gaze away from the scantily clad Victoria and turned to look at Zafira.

"Didn't anyone tell you that your room would be otherwise occupied tonight?" she queried, her brows arched questioningly. He realized he still held the door knob in his left hand and the door was still wide open. He quickly closed it.

"Obviously not," he replied, a bit vexed. "Where am I supposed to sleep then?"

Zafira smiled at him charmingly. "With me, of course."

Once more, Diego was flabbergasted. It had been a year and a half since that night Isabella had been conceived. And it had been over four years since they had actually spent the night together in the same bedroom. Or in the same bed for that matter.

His body, already aroused by the sight of Victoria in her thin cotton undergarments, grew even harder. He followed his wife as she entered her room. It was then he noticed that she had already changed into her nightgown, which was covered by her robe.

Diego then saw the blanket and pillow on the floor next to Zafira's bed. He glanced up at her abruptly.

"What's this?" he demanded more forcefully than he meant to.

"Your bed for the night," she replied, looking him in the eye. He saw no trace of malice nor humor in her expression. She was smiling benevolently at him.

"But I. . ." He broke off what he had been about to say, that he thought she wanted him to sleep with her. Rolling his eyes upward, he scolded himself for getting his hopes up where she was concerned.

But it was getting so frustrating. He was trying to be a good husband and remain faithful to his marriage vows. Deep in his heart, he knew he didn't love her. But he still cared for her. She was the mother of his child. He had married her for better or worse.

He just wanted to know when it was going to be better. The lack of affection and physical contact was getting tougher for him to bear. There had been many times he could have found both elsewhere. It actually surprised him how many women were willing to overlook the fact he was married in order to satisfy his baser needs.

Diego noticed Zafira was gazing at him with an odd expression on her face. "Good night, Diego," she murmured as she lifted her quilt and slid into her bed.

He stared at her then at the pallet on the floor. He had planned to introduce Zorro to the new alcalde the next day but since it was obvious he would never be able to sleep now, he might as well take care of Ignacio and his delusions of grandeur that night instead.

He started to leave the bedchamber. "Where are you going?" Zafira asked. Diego turned to see her sitting up in her bed, still wearing her robe.

"I'm going to read for awhile," he answered. He gave her a lopsided grin of apology. "Don't wait up."

Ignoring her quiet protest that he stay, Diego left the room and went in search of Felipe. He had a lesson to teach his old school chum, although he doubted de Soto would heed the excellent advice Zorro would dispense.

Z Z Z

As Diego had suspected, de Soto possessed a stubborn streak as deep as the ocean and a mind shuttered to reason along with unhealthy obsessions with Machiavelli and silk cravats. If anything, Zorro's visit to the new alcalde had only further resolved his aim to capture the masked man.

Diego had been worried for a brief moment when he had fenced with the other man. He couldn't remember if Ignacio had also been a student of Sir Edmund's since they had never trained at the same time. But he had been concerned that de Soto might have recognized the Englishman's influence in Zorro's style.

Fortunately the new alcalde had remained clueless to his new archenemy's identity. Diego had sighed with relief. He and Ignacio had never been more than acquaintances really. Just two actors in a play. Although there had been one point where de Soto's Judas had had to kiss Diego's Jesus's cheeks in the ultimate act of betrayal. That scene had always unnerved Diego as he always thought Ignacio had seemed rather eager to turn him over to the Roman soldiers. 

He couldn't help feeling a certain sense of déjà vu.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - Part of the traditional Western Christian marriage vows, along with "for richer, for poorer; in sickness and in health." Evidently usually stated as "for better, for worse", I've only ever heard them said as "for better or worse." Who knew? 
> 
> In this chapter, they have a twofold meaning - Diego's marriage to Zafira, and de Soto becoming alcalde of Los Angeles. Diego is stuck with both of them "for better or worse."


	43. Two Weddings and a Funeral

_"Anima ejus, et ánimæ ómnium fidélium defunctórum, per misericórdiam Dei requiéscant in pace."_

Diego watched as Padre Benitez then made the sign of the cross over the coffin of his father's closest amigo, Don Sebastian Valverde. The don had been shot and killed; his wife, Maria, had also been shot and left for dead. But the señora had survived, and was now weeping inconsolably on Don Alejandro's shoulder.

He glanced over to his left and saw Victoria standing next to Jose Rivas. Jose, one of the Valverdes' most loyal tenants, had been falsely accused of the heinous crime. Diego smiled inwardly as he recalled the elaborate ruse that had been concocted to prove Jose's innocence to the new alcalde. Making de Soto think he had been ill and unconscious for several days and that Sergeant Mendoza had carried out Jose's execution had taken the cooperation of the whole pueblo. 

Diego was nudged out of his reminiscing by his father's elbow. The funeral service was over and the mourners were leaving the cemetery. He observed as Victoria took Jose's hand and walked away with him. Jealousy roiled up inside him. He had noticed the two of them had become quite close in the preceding days. And the knowledge Victoria had helped the other man before only made him more envious. Was there more between the innkeeper and Jose than just friendship? Was she thinking of marrying him?

"Diego, come on," said Zafira, tugging on his arm. "Everyone's already left." She glanced up at him curiously. "What are you waiting for?"

"Nothing," he replied. He smiled half-heartedly and offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

He led her out of the graveyard, trailing behind the others. He searched for his father and the grieving widow but instead saw Victoria and Jose, their heads together in close conversation.

He had not been able to look Victoria in the eye, let alone speak to her beyond what was polite, for several months. The image of her, dressed in her thin cotton chemise, standing next to his bed, would fill his mind and render him dumbstruck. Every time he had seen her in the subsequent weeks, he thought of how she had been in his bed. True, Señora Moreno, the elderly widow, had also slept in it, but he tried not to think of that. He knew he was torturing himself needlessly by the fantasies he wove around the incident, but he couldn't help himself.

He gazed down at Zafira as they walked into the plaza. She had never mentioned that night, but he had caught her staring at him from time to time, an enigmatic expression on her face. He wondered if she had deliberately let him burst in on the two women in his room. If she knew about his feelings for Victoria, she never hinted at them. But there was a certain maliciousness the lovely innkeeper seemed to bring out in his uncaring wife.

Sighing, he assisted the woman he had impetuously wed up the steps of the tavern as they went to join the wake for Don Sebastian.

Z Z Z

A month later, Diego found himself attending another service presided over by the good padre. Only it was a much happier occasion. One of the de la Vegas's ranch hands was getting married to the daughter of the de la Vegas's stablemaster, Miguel.

Unfortunately, he, Zafira, and Don Alejandro were seated directly behind Victoria, who was sitting next to an older couple, the Estevezes. Doña Carmen was a notorious busybody and her husband, Don Esteban, was nearly her equal as a gossip. 

Instead of paying attention to the ceremony being performed in front of him, Diego had spent the entire Mass staring at the back of Victoria's head, except for the times when the congregation stood, then his gaze would drift a bit lower. Thoughts occupied his head that had no business being there, especially while he was in a place of worship.

[parts of the following scene taken from "A New Lease on Love" written by Philip John Taylor]

"May the Lord fill you both with his blessings," declared Padre Benitez as the service finally came to a close. "And what God hath joined, men must not divide. Pedro. . . Benita. . ."

He motioned for the newlyweds to stand up. Diego watched covetously as they kissed. He remembered his own wedding day and slid a quick glance over to Zafira who was sitting between him and his father. The expression on her face told him nothing of what she was thinking, beyond a pleasant smile directed at Pedro and Benita.

"It's time you got married," Doña Carmen whispered to Victoria.

Diego noticed that the innkeeper's spine stiffened as she looked over at the older woman with an irritated countenance.

Señora Estevez blithely continued on as the now married couple walked down the aisle on their way out of the church. "Victoria, you should find a good husband and have little ones," she declared.

Diego's stomach clutched at the thought of Victoria having another man's children. He knew he had no right to feel that way but he could not help himself. He didn't realize he was gripping the back of the pew in front of him until Zafira nudged him with her elbow.

"Diego, come on," she prompted impatiently. Don Alejandro also was glaring at him in annoyance. 

He got to his feet and exited the bench, allowing his wife and the elder de la Vega to leave as well. He turned to look over his shoulder, catching more of Doña Carmen's unsubtle coercion of Victoria.

"Let's face it, Victoria," she stated, "Zorro's not the marrying kind. Champions of liberty have never been good providers. The pay is dreadful."

"I don't need any man's money," the lovely innkeeper retorted. Diego wasn't able to hear anymore of the conversation as he followed Zafira and his father out of the building. Again, pain twisted his insides. Señora Estevez fancied herself as the pueblo's matchmaker. And now, it seemed, she was focusing her attention on Victoria.

And again, Diego had to scold himself it was none of his concern. He had a spouse and a child. He couldn't deny her the same.

The next few weeks were interesting, to say the least. Diego watched as Doña Carmen paraded suitor after suitor in front of Victoria. And was filled with a smug self-righteousness as she spurned them all. 

De Soto was also up to something, although Diego had yet to figure out exactly what it was. The Alcalde was making a big fuss about a statue of King Ferdinand that was being delivered to Los Angeles. Sergeant Mendoza had let slip (during a meal Diego had bought for him, along with a good measure of wine) that de Soto had told him the sculpture was going to bring about Zorro's downfall. Then Felipe, after returning from a errand in San Pedro, informed him armed lancers had met the ship the King's statue had arrived upon and had immediately began guarding the wooden crate it was packed in.

His curiosity drove him to find out what exactly was in the well-protected box. His first attempt failed and he had barely escaped being captured. His second try the next day met with more success.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "A New Lease on Love" written by Philip John ]

Zorro quietly slipped into the back of the church. Even though Mendoza had told him it was taking place, he hadn't wanted to believe it true. But he couldn't disregard the proof right before his eyes. Victoria, heartbreakingly beautiful in a white lace dress, stood in front of Padre Benitez, gazing warmly at the man by her side.

Lieutenant Juan Ortiz. It had been many years since he had seen the other man but he still recognized him. He recalled hearing at one time Juan and Victoria had been childhood sweethearts, but then Juan had joined the Royal Navy and Victoria had taken over running the tavern. But that knowledge didn't help with the churning sickness in his gut as he observed them with a heavy heart.

Padre Benitez was looking at Ortiz. "Juan, do you promise to be true to her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love and to honor her all the days of your life?" he asked.

"I do." The lieutenant's voice was confident and clear.

Then the padre turned to Victoria. "Victoria, will you take Juan to be your husband? Do you promise to be true to him in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health to love and to honor him all the days of your life?"

She glanced over at Juan and Zorro saw a tiny flicker of indecision in her eyes. "I. . .I. . ." she murmured nervously. Then she took a deep breath and glance over at her groom then at Padre Benitez.

"I do."

Zorro watched in silent anguish as Juan slid a gold band on Victoria's left ring finger, forever marking her as his wife. Whatever doubt he had seen in the lovely innkeeper's eyes before was now gone, replaced by an expression of hope.

Padre Benitez made the sign of the cross over the newlyweds. "May the Lord fill you both with his blessings. And what God hath joined, men must not divide," he said.

Men must not divide. The words echoed through Zorro's head as he closed his eyes, unable to watch as Ortiz lowered his mouth to Victoria's. She was now truly out of his reach. She was somebody else's wife just as he was somebody else's husband. Pain clenched his heart

The sound of people getting to their feet shook him out of his despondency. Victoria and Juan, on their way out of the church, were just about to pass by his hiding place. Impulsively, he stepped out into the aisle.

"Zorro!" Victoria's shocked cry was repeated by others inside the church.

He bowed before the bride and groom. "My congratulations," he offered, the sincerity in his voice at odds with the roiling of his insides. "I wish you both great happiness."

Victoria murmured, " _Gracias_ ," before averting her gaze. However, the lieutenant withdrew his sword from its scabbard and pointed it at the man in black's broad chest.

"Señor," said Zorro as he took a step back. "I mean you no harm."

"I'm a officer in His Majesty's Navy," retorted Juan, thrusting his weapon forward, touching it to Zorro's black silk shirt. "You are under arrest. Step outside."

Zorro nodded as he raised his hands. "If you insist."

Victoria clutched at her new spouse's arm. "Juan, please don't do this!" she pleaded. She glanced from Ortiz to Zorro, who saw the distress in her liquid brown eyes. "He's not our enemy." she stated as she tugged on Juan's forearm.

The lieutenant shrugged off her hands. "He's an outlaw," he said, his wary stare never leaving Zorro's face. "I have to do my duty."

He lifted the tip of his blade from Zorro's chest then motioned forward. "After you, Señor Fox," snarled Juan. Zorro started to exit the church, the naval officer's sword now pricking into his back.

Once outside, Ortiz came around and held his weapon to Zorro's chest once again. "Now, Zorro," he commanded, "kindly hand over your sword."

Zorro stared at the cannon aimed directly at him then turned to Juan and his thin piece of steel. "Excuse me, Lieutenant," he drawled sarcastically, "but don't think your request is somewhat superfluous?"

Gasps filled the air as the wedding guests got a glimpse of the massive weapon pointed at them and the mission. Zorro noticed for the first time his father and Zafira were part of the crowd leaving the church. Don Alejandro had come up behind Victoria, placing a protective hand on her shoulder, leaving his daughter-in-law to stand by herself.

People began to scatter as the line of lancers standing behind the cannon raised then cocked their muskets. De Soto was also behind the cannon, holding up a piece of lit punk and wearing a grin so wide it threatened to split his face in two.

"Prepare to die, Zorro!" he called out cheerfully.

Zorro pushed aside Ortiz's sword and took a step toward the commandante. "Be reasonable, Alcalde," he said calmly. "You could kill every citizen within fifty meters with that diabolical device."

More people ran away from the front of the church. Sergeant Mendoza, who had also been attending the ceremony, sprinted past the masked man on his way to his superior officer. The soldier began to dance excitedly in front of de Soto, trying to gain the other man's attention.

The alcalde ignored the sergeant's antics. "Ah," he said confidently, "then you've heard of Sir Henry Shrapnel's magnificent invention."

The man in black nodded although he hardly agreed with de Soto's assessment of the wicked piece of artillery. "Each cannonball contains hundred of lead pellets," he announced in a loud voice, wanting everyone in the pueblo de Los Angeles to realize just what their new commandante has brought into their midst. "They cause devastation over a vast area."

"Alcalde!" Mendoza's shout was filled with panic.

"Be quiet, Sergeant!" the alcalde ordered as he glanced down at the still prancing lancer. Then he raised his venomous stare back up to meet Zorro's eyes. "This is one piece of artillery you will not evade and you cannot outrun. And after I have blasted you out of existence, I will leave it here, mounted in the middle of the plaza as a reminder to the good people of Los Angeles of what can befall them if they try to cross me."

He opened out his arms and swept them over the plaza as he turned to his right and left. The remaining people in the plaza ran to take cover, leaving Zorro, Victoria, Juan, Don Alejandro, and Zafira standing in front of the church.

Juan touched his hand to Victoria's arm. "Let's get out of the line of fire," he suggested firmly, waiting only a moment before he marched over to stand beside the Alcalde. He was obviously throwing his support behind de Soto and his insanity.

"Victoria!" Juan called out when he realized his bride had not followed him. Zorro turned to look at her and saw the uncertainty on her beautiful face. She was visibly torn between joining her new husband or protecting the man who she felt was the savior of Los Angeles. But a man who had also broken her heart.

"Victoria!" Zorro heard the impatience in Ortiz's voice and watched as Victoria stayed rooted to where she was standing. A single tear rolled down her left cheek.

"Señor de la Vega," he said to his father. "If you would kindly escorted the ladies to safety." He pointed to his left. Don Alejandro nodded and took Zafira's arm. The old don reached for Victoria's hand and pulled her out of her inertia in the direction the masked man had indicated.

Juan's shouts at Victoria were mingled with Mendoza's pleas to de Soto. The sergeant, seeing the commandante was about to light the cannon's short fuse, tried to run toward Zorro, but the Alcalde grabbed him by the collar of his jacket with his right hand as he touched the lit punk to the massive weapon's detonator with his left.

The ensuing explosion was deafening. A cloud of thick white smoke obscured the entire plaza as people screamed then began to cough. Zorro took the opportunity the thick haze provided to run back inside the church and up the narrow, winding staircase leading to the bell tower. He peered downward as the dust settled back down in the plaza. He had to stop himself from chuckling aloud as he saw the destroyed cannon with de Soto on his butt in the dirt beside it. 

"NO!"

The anguished cry from Victoria drew his attention as he watched as she streaked toward the ruined weapon. Tossing aside the bouquet she still had been holding, she knelt down beside a body lying on the ground.

Zorro squinted downward and noticed the once shiny black boots and the once white trousers the man was wearing. _Madre de Dios!_ For the second time in less than an hour, he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Don Alejandro came over and helped the shaking Victoria to her feet. The man in black then clearly saw Lieutenant Juan Ortiz, a large piece of shrapnel lodged in his left temple and another piece sticking up out of his chest, lying in a pool of blood.

He had just killed Victoria's husband.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - the movie "Four Weddings and a Funeral" of course. Watched it mainly because of Rowan Atkinson (Mr Bean, Blackadder), but still a pretty good movie.


	44. Repent at Leisure

He had only meant to damage the cannon beyond repair so de Soto would never ever be able to use it against the citizens of Los Angeles. He never thought his tinkering would have resulted in anyone's death. In fact, Zorro had been positive it wouldn't.

Obviously something must have gone wrong. He stared down helplessly from his perch in the church's campana as Victoria clutched at his father's arms. 

_Dear Lord_ , he had made her a widow on her wedding day. A day that was supposed to be the happiest of her life. _He_ had turned it into what would have been anyone's worst nightmare. He couldn't even blame this tragedy on the alcalde. Zorro had known de Soto wouldn't have let something as trivial a wedding stop him from trying to kill his archenemy.

Zorro tipped his head into his gloved hands as guilt wracked his entire being. He already couldn't face Victoria after the incident in his bedroom. How on earth was he going to pretend to be Don Diego de la Vega, her good old family friend, now that he was responsible for her husband's death?

He remained atop the church until he heard the commotion in the plaza quiet down to a low rumble. Then he remembered the wagon filled with the rest of the diabolical cannonballs he planned to destroy.

It was several minutes later when a second blast echoed through the plaza. But this time, the debris landed a safe distance away from any innocent bystanders.

Zorro leapt onto Toronado's back and galloped away from the pueblo. He was glad he had instructed Felipe to tell everyone Diego had gone to Santa Paula for the day. He didn't think he could face anyone just yet.

But that hope was quickly dashed as he and the Andalusian emerged from the tunnel into the main body of the secret cave. Felipe was there, tense with anxiety.

"What?" the masked man demanded more harshly than he would have under normal circumstances. "What's the matter now?"

The young man launched into a fast paced series of gestures, the gist of which informed Zorro that Victoria was getting married that day. 

"I know," he replied, his heart filled with sorrow and regret. "I got to the church in time to see it for myself."

He turned his back on the youth and began to strip out of his sweaty and dirty black clothing. He groaned in anguish at the thought of what he had done. Reaching out and grabbing the clothes rack, he bent over and exhaled deeply, trying not to retch.

The light touch of a hand on his shoulder caused him to spin around. He noted absently that Felipe flinched backward a couple of steps before signing the question Diego could already see on his face.

"What happened?" he interpreted bitingly. "Oh, nothing really. Victoria married Lieutenant Ortiz." He clenched his fists by his sides. "And then I killed him."

Felipe stared at him, his expressive brown eyes wide with horror and disbelief. Then he shook his head and gestured another question.

"How?" Diego felt the bile rising in his throat again. "By tinkering with the alcalde's cannon," he snapped. "Ortiz was standing in the wrong place at the wrong time and got hit by pieces of it when it blew apart."

He had to look away as the young man used his hands to explain it wasn't his fault. He knew without reservation he was the one to blame. Sensing Felipe wasn't going to leave him alone, he swiftly changed his clothing and headed toward the exit leading to the library fireplace.

Sighing with relief that the hacienda was devoid of any signs of his father and Zafira's return, Diego made his way toward his room. He knew he was being a coward but he just couldn't face anyone else at the moment. 

" _Patrón?_ "

Grimacing with impatience, Diego turned around. The sight of Señora Batido, Isabella's niñera, immediately suspended his annoyance at being intercepted.

"Isabella? Is she all right?" he inquired of the plump little woman.

"Come, _por favor, Patrón_ ," she said earnestly. "There is something you must see."

Diego's heart was in his throat as he followed the nanny to the nursery. All sorts of horrible and disturbing images jumbled through his mind.

A quick glance around the sunny little room put his fears to rest as he saw his daughter in her crib, smiling happily. Her first birthday had been two weeks earlier. Diego couldn't help grinning as he recalled how excited she had been with her presents, showing more interest in the wrappings than the gifts inside.

He watched as the niñera lifted Isabella out of the barred-sided bed and placed her on the floor. The little girl had just learned to stand by herself a few days before. Diego looked at the señora, confused by why she would be so insistent he observe the new skill once again.

Then Isabella took a step toward him, then another before plopping down on her padded bottom. She stood herself back up and stepped again, raising her arms.

"Papa, up," she demanded imperiously. "Pick up."

Diego scooped her up into his arms and hugged her tight. "So, Princesa," he said, "you've learned to walk."

"Wat," she replied, looking up at him with a smile that dimpled both of her cheeks. Her light brown hair was a riot of curls and her innocent eyes, which had been blue at birth but were now violet, stared at him proudly. She looked so much like her mother, except for her curly hair and her eyes.

" _Si_ , walk," he agreed before tightening his embrace. He prayed he would always be able to keep her safe. To keep her away from the evil ways of the world. He imagined Victoria's father had once made a similar vow, one he had been unable to fulfill. His stomach churned at the reminder of what he had done to her that day.

Diego heard a commotion coming from the front of the hacienda. He handed Isabella back to her nurse, then walked out of the nursery and down the hallway to see what was going on.

He emerged into the foyer at the same time his father, Zafira, and. . . _Dios mio_ , Victoria, walked through the front door. He could only stare at her, taking in her torn and blood-stained wedding dress and the look. . . _Dios_ , the look in her eyes. He had never before seen such an expression of devastation on her face. And knowing he was the cause of it had a surge of self-loathing sweeping over him.

"Diego, what are you doing here?" asked Don Alejandro, his voice cutting through the haze of misery that surrounded him. "Felipe said you went to Santa Paula."

Gulping nervously, Diego panicked for a moment before turning his regard to the elder de la Vega and regaining what was left of his wits. "I was going to," he began slowly, trying to quickly come up with an appropriate falsehood, "but. . .but the bridge was washed out."

"The bridge was washed out?" echoed the old don incredulously as Diego grimaced. He knew what the other man was thinking, that it hadn't rained for over a month.

"Yes, uh, there was a freak thunderstorm," he explained. "Caused a flash flood. Wiped the bridge right out." He waved his hands as if the gesture would give credence to the lie he was telling. 

Don Alejandro looked at him skeptically. Diego realized neither his father nor his wife were going to explain Victoria's bedraggled presence. They were waiting for his supposed ignorance of the afternoon's events to question the innkeeper's appearance.

Sighing heavily, he turned to Victoria. "Señorita," he said in an astonished tone, "what happened? Are you all right?" He indicated her crimson-stained white dress.

"Oh, Diego," said the elder de la Vega at the same time Zafira replied, "She's fine, Diego." 

He shot a glance at his wife. Zafira was standing next to Victoria with an unreadable look on her face. "I can hardly believe that she's. . ." he began to scold his spouse.

"Don Alejandro," said Victoria in a quiet voice, "I-I would like to lie down, _por favor._ "

The old don was instantly solicitous. "Of course, of course, my dear," he said. He extended his hand and place it on her elbow. "This way."

He started to lead her down the hallway, Diego, putting on a mask of bewilderment, turned to face his wife.

"What happened?"

Before Zafira even had a chance to open her mouth, his father walked up beside them and sighed wearily before relating the events of the afternoon. The tale of woe, told from the old don's point of view, seemed unreal to Diego. It lacked the accusations and the anger against Zorro he had expected. There was only the usual fury directed toward de Soto and his evil weapon.

"She's going to stay with us until she's recovered from the shock," his father pronounced as he finished the unpleasant story.

"Of course," murmured Diego distractedly

"Poor thing, she's a widow now," Zafira said. Diego thought he heard a touch of wistfulness in her voice. A voice that also belied the sympathetic nature of her words. "Well, if no one objects, I'm going for a ride." Not waiting for a response, she walked to her bedroom and went inside.

Diego and Don Alejandro were left staring at each other in the hallway. "This is just terrible," said the old don, slumping his shoulders wearily. "At least Zorro put that cannon out of commission."

"But if he hadn't touched it in the first place," Diego began, "Lieutenant Ortiz would still be alive."

"Son, Zorro saved us all from utter destruction," stated the elder de la Vega firmly. "Ortiz chose his own fate when he decided to side with de Soto."

Diego was stunned to hear the contempt in his father's voice toward Victoria's erstwhile husband. "But surely no one deserves to die, especially so horribly, and on their wedding day," he commented, the last few words nearly sticking in his throat.

"No, of course not," Don Alejandro quickly agreed. "It still doesn't change the facts. He shouldn't have got involved. He should have taken Victoria and left on their honeymoon instead of trying to arrest Zorro."

Shaking his head in a vain attempt to quell the waves of nausea from his body, Diego then glanced down the hall toward the room where Victoria was no doubt sobbing her heart out. "Do you think she'll ever get over it?" he asked.

The old don shrugged. "Perhaps," he answered thoughtfully. "I don't think she was in love with him. I think she is still in love with Zorro. I think what she's feeling right now isn't grief but guilt." He nodded his head at her door. "I think that's even going to be harder to live with."

He turned and walked away, leaving Diego standing in the hall, very taken aback. His father's words, though harsh, still had a ring of truth to them. 

Diego sighed then started back toward the nursery. It was a sorry statement, he thought as he walked, that his small daughter was the only lifeline he had to keep from drowning in the miserable mire that had become his life.

Z Z Z

Diego was up early the next morning, hoping to escape the hacienda before anyone else awoke. But as soon as he stepped out of his bedroom, a door opened down the hallway and Victoria walked out of the guest room. He was surprised to see that she was dressed in a clean skirt and blouse, then guessed that someone had bought her a change of clothing since she had arrived at the hacienda.

"Victoria. . ." he began, not really knowing what he wanted to say. He could hardly apologize for killing her husband but still, he wanted her to know how truly remorseful he was. "I'm so sorry. I. . ."

"Thank you, Don Diego," she cut in as he hesitated. She glanced up at him then looked downward. "If you will excuse me."

With a swirl of her dark green skirt, she turned away from him. Diego impulsively reached out and put his hand on her arm. "Where are you going?" he asked, trying futilely to ignore the frisson of desire that occurred when he touched her.

Victoria stared up at him with troubled brown eyes. "Back to the tavern," she replied in a voice he could tell was full of false confidence. "Please thank your father for his kindness for letting me to stay here last night," she requested, lowering her gaze to the floor.

"But. . . But. . ." Diego could only sputter stupidly.

" _Por favor_ ," she whispered sadly. "Don't make this harder than it already is, Diego." She pulled her forearm out from under his grasp and turned her back to him.

"I just need to know that you'll be all right," he stated sincerely. "Victoria, I. . ."

"Don't," she interrupted. "I'll be fine." With that, she fled.

Diego listened miserably as the front door opened then clicked back shut. His father had been right. He had not seen sorrow nor heartache in Victoria's eyes. He had seen guilt. A guilt that matched his own.

"Is she gone?"

Zafira's discordant voice stirred him from his wretched thoughts. He turned to stare at his wife, who was dressed in her burgundy riding habit.

"Where are you going so early?" he asked, surprised by his harsh tone.

"Out riding," replied Zafira defiantly. "Like I do every morning."

Diego stepped aside so she could pass by him. He noted then how pale she looked. The habit hung loosely on her thin frame and under her eyes were dark smudges.

"Zafira," he said, walking up behind her. She paused and spun around to face him. "Are you feeling all right?"

"Never better," she said brightly as she smiled up at him. " _Adios_ , Diego." She turned and continued on her way out of the hacienda.

Diego had the distinct impression he had just been lied to by not one, but by both women.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - Second half of the quote "married in haste, we may repent at leisure" from the play "The Old Bachelor" by William Congreve. "Married in haste" was used as the title of the first chapter.


	45. Matters of Honor

" _Buenos dias_ ," Diego said as he walked into the tavern late one afternoon. He made his way up to the bar where Victoria was already pouring him a glass of lemonade.

" _Hola_ , Don Diego," she replied as she slid the filled glass toward him.

" _Gracias_." He picked up the cup and took a large sip of the refreshing liquid. "That really hits the spot," he announced lightly.

Victoria smiled at him, a tight little quirk of her lips that didn't reach her eyes. She then lifted a tray of dirty glasses and carried it into the kitchen.

Her widowhood had became the talk of the pueblo for the past several months. Some people thought it tragically romantic. Others disapproved of the way she had gone back to running the tavern so soon after her husband's death, the day after his funeral in fact. It didn't seem to matter to some of the gossips she wore the dark colors of mourning, which Diego personally thought made her look tired and wan.

Diego turned and leaned his back up against the wooden counter. He had taken to hanging around the inn nearly every afternoon he could spare, overcoming his guilt and shame as he was truly worried about the lovely innkeeper.

As far as he knew, she had not spoken to anyone about the day she had been married then widowed. At first, many of the pueblo's matrons had tried to draw her out, but she had rebuffed their queries. They then took to speculating amongst themselves about her and the condition of her heart.

Victoria reemerged from the kitchen, carrying two plates full of tamales. Diego watched as she wended her way through the tables and placed her burden in front of two men. Deftly she set their meals down on their table along with their utensils wrapped in red and white checked napkins.

Intrigued by how gracefully she moved, Diego's eyes followed her until she disappeared into the kitchen again. A low wolfish whistle drew his attention back to the two men, one of whom he recognized as the driver of a wagon that hauled freight between the pueblo and the port of San Pedro.

"She is a beauty," said the man Diego didn't know.

"I told you, Tomas," the driver replied, nodding his head and pointing with his spoon toward the kitchen. 

"And she was widowed on her wedding day, you say," stated Tomas. 

His companion recounted the story of how Ortiz had tried to arrest Zorro before being killed by the exploding cannon. 

"What a pity," Tomas replied, glancing at the curtains at the kitchen's entrance. "I'd sure like to fire my cannon off at her," he stated coarsely. Both men laughed at the crude innuendo.

Diego had heard enough. He launched himself across the room and in the blink of an eye, had Tomas pinned to the wall with his forearm pressed up against the man's throat.

"If you as so much as lay one finger on Señora Ortiz," he growled ominously into the man's dazed face, "I promise I'll kill you where you stand."

"Diego!"

He turned his head to see Victoria standing several meters to his right, holding another tray of food. She had obviously witnessed the whole encounter, a belief borne by the stunned expression on her face For a second he pushed his arm a little harder to Tomas's neck before relinquishing his hold on him. 

"Get out," he snarled threateningly to Tomas then glared over at his amigo. "Both of you."

The driver threw some coins on their table then he and his friend fled the tavern. Diego stared menacingly at them until they were out of his sight.

"My apologies," he said calmly to the room at large who sat in astonished silence. "Sorry to have disturbed your meals."

He started to leave as well but a hand on his arm halted his progress. He didn't have to look down to know it was Victoria. But he did anyway and saw her gazing up at him with a bemused expression.

"Don Diego," she said hesitantly. " _Gracias_."

" _De nada_ ," he replied. He tried to move away but her grip on his shirtsleeve tightened.

"I've never seen you move so fast," she declared in a stunned voice. "Or seen you so angry before."

"They were impugning your honor, Señora," stated Diego as he tore his eyes away from her face. "I could not allow that to happen."

"No, of course not," Victoria agreed. "But. . . But. . ."

"But what?" he inquired in what he hoped was a casual manner. He was more than a little bit concerned she might be making comparisons between what she had just seen and what she had seen Zorro do time and time again.

"But nothing," Victoria replied with a shake of her head. 

Diego knew she was not telling him the whole truth as he had caught the tiniest flicker of fear in her eyes. Had there been other such incidents? Had other men made obscene suggestions to her, hoping she was one of those widows who took lovers? 

He glanced down at Victoria's beautiful face but she averted her gaze. A sudden, horrifying thought popped into his head. _Dios_ , what if some man had forced himself on her? His stomach churned violently at the idea. As much as he wished otherwise, he couldn't be around all the time to protect her. That something so vile might have occurred when he wasn't there. . .

Abruptly he wondered if she was still a virgin. Diego had heard her rushed nuptials were because the lieutenant had received an appointment in Monterey and had been due to report there, but what if that had been only part of the reason? She and Ortiz might have forestalled their wedding vows, necessitating the hasty wedding.

It had been nearly four months since she had been practically widowed at the altar. Diego's eyes quickly skimmed the length of her body, noticing that her waist was as trim as ever, if not a bit thinner. She wasn't carry Ortiz's child at any rate. 

He then noticed that Victoria was staring at him oddly. He grinned apologetically. She smiled back tremulously, but a genuine smile nonetheless. " _Gracias_ , Diego," she murmured as she snatched her hand away from his arm. "I'd. . .I'd better get back to work," she added nervously. " _Adios_."

" _Adios_ , Victoria." Diego left the tavern then, shaken more than he cared to admit by what had just happened. This had not been the first time his temper had gotten the better of him, thus nearly betraying his actions were identical to those of his masked alter ego.

And his concern about Victoria had grown tenfold. He felt so powerless to help her. He was a married man and his position as a family friend could only explain his actions so far. Already his not-so-covert vigilance was beginning to cause comments. This altercation would trigger even more talk.

He swung up into the saddle of his mare, Esperanza, and nudged her into the direction of the hacienda. He rode home, his thoughts weighing heavily on his mind.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "A Woman Scorned" written by Philip John Taylor]

Zorro sat with his back up against the cool adobe wall, for which he was grateful as the serape and large straw sombrero he wore over his usual black costume were making him sweat like a horse. If only de Soto would get on with it, he urged silently, knowing that Felipe was waiting just outside the pueblo, waiting for the Alcalde to utter the words ‘prepare to fire'. That was when the youth was to release Toronado who carried a scarecrow fashioned to look like Zorro on his back.

He peeked out from under the wide brim of the oversized hat and sighed with relief as he saw de Soto finally swagger out of his office. Sliding a glance to his right, he saw that Mendoza had the other lancers lined up, their muskets by their sides. 

A blindfolded man stood up against the wall opposite the soldiers. A man Zorro believed to be innocent of the crime he had been accused of; the murder of the man's own father. 

His plan to stop the execution went off without a hitch. The masked dummy had drawn the lancer's fire, just as he knew it would, giving him the opportunity to free Jacinto Santana and scold the alcalde once again about the folly of jumping to hasty conclusions. 

Once he was mounted into the saddle on Toronado's back, he started to ride out of town. A inadvertent glance at a person standing on the porch of de Soto's office caused him to spin the horse back around to take another look.

Zorro stared at the blonde haired woman, her brilliant blue eyes gazing back at him coyly. "Buenos dias, Señorita," he murmured. Then with a salute of his gloved hand, he urged his black stallion out of the pueblo.

It was some time later, after he had secured Jacinto Santana in the old abandoned barn on the de la Vega property where he had once stashed Leonardo Montez the jewel thief, before Zorro got a chance to dwell on what he had seen earlier that day.

He closed his eyes as he and Toronado thundered over the dusty ground and conjured up the image of another blonde, blue-eyed woman. She and the woman on the porch could have been sisters, their looks and coloring were so similar.

Opening his eyes, he leaned forward and encouraged the Andalusian to go faster. An restless feeling had been stirred up inside him by the beautiful woman's appearance. He wondered who she was and why she was visiting the pueblo de Los Angeles. 

He was just on edge, he tried to tell himself rationally, because the señorita reminded him of his mistress from his university days. The Condesa Magdalena del Paseo. The first woman who had truly gotten under his skin and had him doing things he hadn't dreamed himself capable of doing.

He shook his head. He had more important things to concern himself with at the moment. Like how to keep an innocent man from being executed for a murder he did not commit.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following taken from "A Woman Scorned" written by Philip John Taylor]

Diego was in the library the next morning, re-reading his copy of Shakespeare's sonnets when Felipe came tearing into the room. Diego had sent the youth to the pueblo to find out whatever he could about the mysterious woman. 

He got to his feet, setting aside the well-worn book. "What is it, Felipe?" 

The lad began signing that a man had arrived in Los Angeles that morning. A man who looked as if he had ridden for many miles. A man who had a pistol strapped to each of his hips.

Diego didn't like the sound of that. "Come on," he said, tipping his head toward the fireplace. "I think that Zorro should investigate this stranger."

Less than an half hour later, the man in black was peering down from a rooftop to the busy plaza below. His eyes quickly spotted his unknown lady from the day before as she sauntered through the market stalls. He watched her as she chatted amiably with the farmers and other vendors, noting she was wearing a dress of blue silk that clung sensually to her shapely figure as she moved.

Groaning inwardly at the havoc she was unwittingly causing in his nether regions, he ripped his gaze away from her and search the rest of the plaza. He picked out Victoria, the basket on her arm brimming with fresh fruits and vegetables she had purchased, as she bargained with a man over a bushel of tomatoes.

Several loud gasps drew his attention back in the direction of the bewitching woman. Zorro was horrified to see a man, obviously the one Felipe had warned him about, aiming a pistol at the woman's back. But before he even had a chance to breathe, let alone think, de Soto had drawn out his own gun and shot at the other man's hand, causing the pistol to fall harmlessly to the ground.

Deciding to stay where he was for the moment, the masked man listened as the man, who said his name was Jorge Ventura and that he was a deputy marshal from Santa Fe, announced that the woman was Señora Alberta Sinestra and that she was wanted for several crimes, including the murder of her husband.

The señora protested her innocence tearfully, telling the alcalde that Ventura was the one who killed her husband over a game of cards. The commandante ignored her, reading instead a piece of the paper the other man had given to him.

One of them was lying. But the truth never be known as long as she was in the alcalde's hands. Zorro dismissed the notion nagging at the back of his brain that his sympathies laid with Señora Sinestra because she reminded him so much of Magdalena. A lady's honor was at stake and he intended to see that justice was served where it was due.

He stared down, rage bubbling up inside him, as the señora was dragged away by Mendoza toward the tavern, where de Soto decided she was to held. Good, he thought as he seethed while her pleas for help were met with silence. It would make it that much easier to gain access to her and find out her side of the story.

Zorro stood and turned away, his gaze accidentally falling on Victoria, who was staring unkindly at the woman as the sergeant pushed her into the tavern. Then she glanced upward and her eyes met his.

If looks could kill, he mused somewhat alarmingly, he would have been struck dead on the spot. He wondered what he had done to earn the innkeeper's disdain. Mentally shrugging, he darted to the other side of the roof, where Toronado waited patiently below.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "A Woman Scorned" written by Philip John Taylor]

Slipping into the tavern a little after midnight had been simple, almost too easy, Zorro warned himself as he crept up the stairs to the second floor. The aroma of roast chicken filled his nostrils. Ah, Sergeant Mendoza must have drawn guard duty, he thought with a mental chuckle. 

A few moments later, the portly soldier had been thoroughly threatened, although Zorro had no intention of cutting the sergeant into tiny pieces. But Mendoza didn't need to know that. The man in black stole into Señora Sinestra's room as the lancer choked on a piece of chicken.

Zorro gazed down at the sleeping woman who looked so much like his first lover. He wondered again if there was a connection of some sort, if the two women could be relatives, cousins perhaps. He stepped over to the bed and crouched down beside it.

The señora slowly opened her eyes and he was drawn into their blue depths. "Zorro," she whispered breathlessly. He saw that she wasn't frightened by his sudden appearance by her bed. She seemed to be. . .well, quite excited by the idea as she sat up and pushed away her blankets, revealing her crumpled gown that had ridden up as she slept, exposing her legs up to her knees. Tearing his eyes away from the bared flesh, he glanced upward and saw the tightened buds of her breasts protruding through the thin silk of her dress.

He immediately went hard. Taking a deep breath that did nothing to calm the tension coursing through his body, he then murmured huskily, "I heard you were in trouble, Señora."

"Alberta, _por favor_ ," she said as she offered him her hand. "I hoped you would come."

Groaning inwardly at the unintended double entendre of her words, he took her hand and helped her off the bed. They stood, face to face, only an inch at most separating their bodies. He could feel desire coming off of her in waves and knew his traitorous body was sending hers the same message. 

She smiled up at him enticingly then placed her right hand over his heart which had already been beating erratically. Her touch only made matters worse. He grasped her hand with his own.

"Alberta, we must go now," he rasped out. "Mendoza won't be. . ."

His words were cut off as she pressed her lips to his.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - No poem or play or TV show this time. The title was inspired by Diego/Zorro defending the honor of two women - first Victoria's, then Señora Sinestra's, in this chapter.


	46. A Scorned Woman

Desire exploded through him the instant her mouth met his. He encircled her in his arms, pulling her lush form up against his hard body, deepening the kiss. She grasped his shoulders as she moaned low in her throat.

She even tasted like Magdalena, he thought incoherently, plundering her mouth with his tongue. Like cinnamon. . .fire. . .lust. He couldn't help but wonder in what other ways she was like his former mistress.

He glided his hands down her back until he cupped her rounded buttocks. Then he roughly flexed his hips, pushing the evidence of his need against her stomach. He could feel her lips move into a smile as she pressed back. He lifted his mouth from her and gazed down at her in wonderment.

_Maldita sea_ , it had been so long since he had held a willing woman in his arms, one with experience, one who obviously wanted him as much as he wanted her. One who would enjoy it as much as he would. Even the thought of his marriage vows only caused him the tiniest twinges of guilt. It was as if the mask he wore gave him the freedom to do as he pleased.

Zorro's lips met Alberta's again. She had slid her hands to the front of his black silk shirt and proceeded to undo the top button as he skimmed his hands up her back then to her sides. His fingers found her breasts at the same time hers flicked opened the second button of his shirt.

His only coherent thought was to lower her down onto the very convenient bed and ease himself into her clearly welcoming body. He moved his mouth away from hers and was working his way down her swan-like neck toward her bosom when the sound of a chair scraping across the floor right outside the door caused them both to hesitate.

"We need to leave," he breathlessly urged once again. This time she nodded and allowed him to lead her out of the room.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "A Woman Scorned" written by Philip John Taylor]

Mendoza was exactly where Zorro had left him, sitting at the table and eating his chicken. The sergeant didn't even blink an eye as the masked man and the prisoner passed by him, hand in hand. They were about half the way down the staircase when Ventura stepped out of the shadows at the bottom landing, pointing a pistol at the pair of them.

"Not another step," the lawman cautioned. Zorro and Alberta stopped in mid-step. Ventura smiled up at them insincerely. "Did you think I'd trust that fool sergeant to guard her by himself?"

Infuriated his plans had gone so awry and that this interloper had insulted Mendoza, Zorro tightened his grip on the señora. "Until you can prove you're truly a law officer," he challenged angrily, "the lady is coming with me."

"Zorro!"

Victoria appeared behind them at the top of the stairs, further complicating the situation. Both he and Alberta turned to face the distressed innkeeper. Zorro watched as her expressive eyes took in their kiss swollen lips, the señora's crumpled silk gown, his nearly unbuttoned shirt, and drew their own conclusion.

Zorro, unable to meet her reproachful stare, released Alberta's hand and launched himself at the man at the bottom of the stairs.

"What are you doing?" He heard the plaintive note in Victoria's voice as he punched Ventura's face. The lawman went down in a heap. Señora Sinestra hurried toward him and he grabbed her right hand.

"Lancers!"

From the corner of his eye, Zorro saw Mendoza come up behind Victoria. He grinned as she gave the sergeant a hard shove backward. "Not now, Mendoza!" she shouted irritably.

His smile faded, however, as he pulled Alberta through the curtained kitchen entrance and heard Victoria's distraught cry.

"Zorro, you mustn't do this!"

It rang through his head as he helped the señora onto Toronado's back. It kept echoing in his mind as they galloped away from the pueblo. And it was still resonating as he led Alberta into the deserted windmill that stood nearly ten miles north of Los Angeles. 

"There's a fresh horse outside," he said in an effort to clear his guilty feelings. He went over and picked up a large white sack and held it up, not daring to meet her sapphire eyes. "And provisions for your journey. Ride to the mission at San Pedro and wait there."

"Wait for what?" Alberta questioned as she walked toward him. "Come away with me right now."

"Señora, I understand your desire to be free," he began, "but I trust you to stay at the mission until your innocence is determined."

"My innocence?" she repeated in a shrill tone which held a touch of amusement that Zorro hoped he had misheard. "Ventura killed my husband," Alberta went on unwaveringly. "I saw him. And if he has the slightest chance, he will kill me too."

She paused then moved closer to him until there was only a hairsbreadth of space between their bodies. Once again, Zorro marveled at how fiercely he responded to her and wondered if it was only because of her resemblance to Magdalena. Or was it because he had been so lonely for so long, that he would have reacted the same way to any woman. 

"You must believe that," said the señora, causing him to be befuddled for a moment as he thought she had read his mind. "You rescued me."

He then made the mistake of looking down at her. Lust shot through him so intensely it practically floored him. He took a step back, hoping to put some distance between them. But Alberta only moved with him, not stopping until she was crushed up against him. He could feel her desire and it intoxicated him.

"As I would anyone in danger," he murmured huskily before bending his lips to hers. It was as if the flight from the tavern had never taken place. The fire between them sprang to life once again, burning even hotter than it had in the señora's room. 

His hands found her breasts again and their hardened nipples. He wrenched down the neckline of her gown, freeing them to his gaze before lowering his mouth. Alberta moaned deeply as she clung to him while he feasted.

"Listen," she said breathlessly. "I have money." He ignored her, instead guiding her to a pile of hay where he laid her down on her back. "More money than you can imagine," she gasped out as his left hand raised the hem of her skirts, his lips still worshipping her bosom.

She had finally succeeded in unbuttoning his shirt and was pushing it off his shoulders. She nuzzled his bared throat and chest as he slid his hand up to the junction of her legs.

"We'll start a new life together," she said as she kissed his neck. "Far from here. Somewhere where they've never heard of Zorro."

The man in question felt as an ice cold bucket of water had been tossed over his head, instantly cooling his ardor. His hand stilled abruptly against her trembling thigh. 

"Alberta," he said as he pushed himself up off of her. "My heart is here in Los Angeles. I can never leave." Evidently he had no problem betraying his vows to his wife. And his feelings for Victoria were of no consequence either, it seemed. It was the thought of never seeing his daughter again that finished off what was left of his passion for the woman lying almost naked beneath him.

Señora Sinestra glared up at him with an expression of disdain. "Hah! I don't believe it," she sneered. "You have feelings for that tavern wench. ‘Oh, Zorro, you mustn't'," she mimicked Victoria's desperate plea. She yanked down her skirts as she pulled up the bodice of her dress before standing up and staring down at him. "Fine, then," she declared, her voice dripping with scorn. "You've made your choice. . .and you'll pay for it, Señor."

He flinched as he saw the tears in her eyes. "Alberta, I'm sorry," he apologized as he stood as well. He re-fastened his shirt then bent down to pick up his hat, which he hadn't even realized had fallen off his head. 

"Just leave," she snarled, turning her back on him. "I'll go to your stupid mission. And I'll wait for you to determine my _innocence_." She dramatically emphasized the last word.

Zorro felt uneasy about leaving her in her current state but he had no choice. Not only did he have to find out if Ventura was a lying murder, but if he stayed, the odds were he and the señora would end up rolling around in the hay together But he couldn't allow his feelings for her to cloud his judgment anymore than they already had. He walked over to the abandoned building's lone doorway.

" _Adios_ , Alberta," he said. "I wish you. . ."

"Get out!" she cut in.

Mentally shrugging, he followed her advice and left.

Z Z Z

Nearly twenty-four hours later, Zorro was no more closer to the truth of Alberta's situation than when he had first begun to investigate it. He had checked on Jacinto Santana, whose circumstances he hadn't improved either. It had not helped at all that when Diego had arrived at dawn at the hacienda for some much needed rest, Isabella had been awake and howling from the pain of a new tooth erupting through her tender gums.

Of course, Zafira was nowhere to be found. The poor niñera had been up most of the night and was only too grateful to put his daughter into his care. "Oh _gracias, Patron_ ," the nanny had said as she handed the unhappy little girl over to him before bustling off to her room

Diego looked down at Isabella's tear streaked little face and melted. It wasn't until he had put her down for her afternoon nap that he had the chance to duck into the secret cave and change into his alter-ego. Felipe filled him on what little he had learned in the pueblo as he saddled Toronado. 

Zorro knew before he even stepped inside the mission in San Pedro Alberta wasn't there and never had been. With a sinking feeling, he urge Toronado back toward Los Angeles, uncertain of what he would discover there and dreading it would be the worst.

[parts of the following scene taken from "A Woman Scorned" written by Philip John Taylor]

He arrived at the tavern just in time to see Señora Sinestra, holding up one of the kitchen knives high in her right hand, advancing toward Victoria as she stepped over Ventura's prone, motionless body. The murderous gleam in Alberta's eyes made his stomach churn, sickened by the thought of the sin he had almost committed with this unstable woman only because she reminded him of another.

"Where's Zorro?" asked Victoria, her voice shaking with anger and fear. "He was with you."

The señora smiled smugly at the innkeeper. "That's right," she gloated. "You've lost him. He loves me now."

Before he could intervene, Alberta stabbed her weapon at Victoria, who turned and grabbed a nearby stool, using it to deflect the deadly thrust. But the knife glanced off one of the legs and sliced Victoria's upper left arm. She spun around and started to run but Zorro stepped out from his hiding place, putting his body between hers and the señora. Alberta, blinded by blood lust, didn't even see him as she tried to plunge her knife into Victoria once again.

Zorro grabbed her wrist, impeding the blade's progress. He looked into Alberta's eyes, the ones that looked so much like Magdalena's, and was frightened by the inhuman fury he saw there.

"You have such a twisted view of love," he snarled at her, upset with himself his body was still reacting to her nearness. "I truly pity you, Señora. You're going back to Santa Fe to stand trial." He wrested the knife from her now lax fingers.

"Ventura was just like my husband," she stated defiantly, "and just like that alcalde in San Diego. Well, I showed them. They all deserved to die." She smiled evilly at Zorro. "And so do you!"

She ran over to the open front door. "Lancers!" she called out into the dark plaza. "Zorro!"

Both Zorro and Victoria hurried over to her but it was too late. Soldiers were beginning to scramble about outside, shouting "It's Zorro!" 

Zorro put a gloved hand on Alberta's shoulder. "Please," he requested, "stand aside."

"No!"

Victoria punched the señora in the face. The murderess crumpled instantly and Zorro caught her before she hit the floor. He grinned up at the flushed Victoria. "Feel better?" he asked as a sense of relief came over him. 

Victoria smiled back at him mischievously and nodded. "Much better."

He chuckled at the look of satisfaction on her beautiful face and then realized he really did love her. That the lust he felt for other women was just that, lust. He desired Victoria as well but it was different. He wanted her for his friend as well as his lover. She was the other half of his soul. 

He easily took care of the lancers who invaded the tavern by cutting the rope holding up the candlelit chandelier in the middle of the room. It landed on the soldiers' heads, trapping all except one under its heavy weight. A mere flick of his saber and a fist to the face made certain the last lancer joined his amigos on the floor.

Zorro turned just in time to see Victoria start to sway. Cursing himself for forgetting about the wound on her arm, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to her quarters.

For the second time in two days, he found himself alone in a bedroom with a woman other than his wife. They sat on her bed as he tending to the slash, which he was happy to note was shallow enough that it didn't need stitching He tied off the length of gauze he had wrapped around the still bleeding cut then lifted his hand up to her cheek, brushing away a stray curl of her raven hair.

"I'm all right," she said shyly. "Really." 

They hadn't been this close to each other since the night they had kissed in the de la Vega courtyard. Zorro trembled as he drank in her nearness. Dios, he wanted her, more than he had ever wanted any other woman. But with her, her knew that it would be a mating of their hearts, not just their bodies. Unable to stop himself, he placed his hands on her shoulders and stared into her dark brown eyes.

"Victoria," he croaked out. He wanted to tell her everything; that he loved her, who he was under the mask, that he was sorry he was married to another woman, sorry that he hadn't waited for her, sorry he had killed her husband.

"You must go," she murmured, turning away from the intensity of his regard. "This is your only chance to clear Jacinto Santana of murder charges." She looked up at him again and he saw that after everything that had happened; her husband's death, his show of indifference toward her, his interlude with Alberta; she still was in love with him. He leaned forward, their mouths mere inches from each other. 

"Victoria," he whispered huskily as he drew back, unwilling to sully her lips with his that only hours before had been kissing a murderess. "I'm sorry." He lifted himself off the mattress then put his hat back on his head. He walked across the room and opened the door, resolving not to look back because he knew he would be unable to resist the impulse to lower her down onto her bed and make love to her.

Just as he began to close the door, he heard her speak. "So am I, Zorro," she said in a barely audible voice. "So am I."

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - From the episode entitled "A Woman Scorned" (Episode 3.8) which was from William Congreve play "The Mourning Bride," on which this chapter is based. Full quote:"Heav'n has no Rage like Love to Hatred turn'd, Nor Hell a Fury like a Woman Scorn'd."


	47. Relatively Speaking

Three months had passed since Señora Alberta Sinestra had been transported back to the New Mexico Territory to stand trial for her husband's murder. Deputy Ventura had written he had made it back safely to Santa Fe with his prisoner and her fate had been quickly decided.

Diego had to admit he was less disturbed by news of her execution by hanging than he was by the knowledge he had almost committed adultery with her. Even so, he said an extra prayer for her immortal soul, along with his own, that Sunday at Mass.

He glanced around inside the church, noting the number of empty pews. Parishioners from the outlying areas were noticeably absent. For the past several weeks, a group of ruthless cutthroats had been holding up military payrolls and arms shipments, killing four soldiers in the process. The weekly stagecoach had been attacked but curiously only the mail pouch had been taken.

The bandits had struck a wide area, from San Diego to south to as far north as Monterey. No one was even sure if it was one group of outlaws who seemed to be everywhere at once or several bands of criminals independent of each other. Zorro, too, was unsure of which was true even after he had spent hours in the saddle, searching for any signs of their activity.

After the service had ended, Diego and Don Alejandro waited as the rest of the congregation filed out of the pews. "I've never seen so few people in church before," the old don commented as he and his son followed the others out of the dark interior into the bright sunlight of the plaza.

"They're afraid of being robbed," replied Diego. "And with good reason."

"Oh, nonsense," Victoria interjected as she came up beside the two men. "Ordinary folks have nothing to fear. Only government officials and their minions."

The elder de la Vega nodded. "She's right," he conceded. "Doña Carmen said after they raided the stagecoach last week, they rode away shouting _‘Libertad!'_."

"They're revolutionaries, not thieves," stated Victoria. Diego was taken aback to see the glimmer of excitement in her eyes as she spoke. "They're not all that different from Zorro."

"They're nothing alike," declared Diego heatedly. "Zorro doesn't murder people."

"That's true, Victoria," agreed Don Alejandro. "We all know the colonial government is corrupt. But stealing and killing are not the way to go about changing things. Ah, Sergeant Mendoza, _buenos dias_ ," he said as the portly soldier walked their way.

" _Buenos dias_ ," the sergeant replied, "I heard you talking about that gang of robbers."

"That's right," said the elder de la Vega.

"I thought you might be interested to know," Mendoza began, lowering his voice as he glanced over his shoulder, "we found out the name of their leader. Joaquin Correna. He's wanted in Spain as well."

Don Alejandro looked thoughtful for a moment. "Never heard of him," he announced. He glanced around at the others. "Well, I need to get back to the hacienda. I'm leaving for Santa Barbara this afternoon," he said to Victoria and the sergeant. "My nephew and his wife are having another christening." 

He eyed Diego balefully. Diego grimaced at the thought of his cousin, Rafael, and his once fickle wife Margarita, and the fact they had just had their third child, a son. The niño joined an older brother and sister. Diego was keenly aware the elder de la Vega, although he loved Isabella dearly, wanted more grandchildren.

After the old don left, Mendoza was called to the cuartel by de Soto, leaving Diego and Victoria standing in the middle of the dusty plaza. "Where's Doña Zafira this morning?" the innkeeper asked.

"She wasn't feeling well," Diego answered, the lie falling automatically from his lips. The truth was his wife had gone out riding before he had even risen that morning. He actually hadn't seen her for about three days. He had been out tracking the band of outlaws and only heaven knew what his spouse had been doing.

"Well, I hope she's feeling better soon," said Victoria. " _Adios_ , Don Diego."

She turned and headed toward her tavern. Diego watched as she disappeared inside, his heart heavy with longing. Sighing, he went to find his horse.

[parts of the following scene taken from "The Old Flame" written by Tom Sawyer]

Less than a week later, a wagon load of ammunition bound for Los Angeles was blown up. The garrison's soldiers were only slightly injured, with Mendoza receiving the worst of it. Zorro had been too late to stop the attack. And he had lost the bandits' trail after only a few miles.

Diego went to the pueblo the next day to find it in utter chaos. Soldiers were searching everyone entering the pueblo. Even he had to suffer through the indignity of such an examination. He then ambled over toward the tavern where he noted Mendoza, his right arm in a sling, was nailing something to the building's porch.

"Five thousand pesos, Sergeant?" he queried after perusing the wanted poster of Joaquin Correna. Diego studied the man's face. Something about it seemed familiar but he couldn't quite place it.

"Ah, not enough," said Mendoza, turning to look up at him.

Putting the mystery of the bandit leader's identity out of his head, Diego smiled. "That's almost as much as the price on Zorro's head."

The sergeant groaned as he pointed to his bandaged limb. "Joaquin Correna put my arm in this sling," he declared. "If it weren't for Zorro, I would have bled to death."

Diego nodded, knowing for once the soldier wasn't exaggerating. The slash he had received from one of the thieves's sword had nearly severed an artery. Zorro had applied a tourniquet on Mendoza's upper arm and had hurried him to Doctor Hernandez, who had stitched the wound, declaring the sergeant a very lucky man.

Victoria stepped out onto the porch, holding a tray of drinks. "Well, if Joaquin Correna is in California, we may soon be independent from Spanish rule," she stated with the same touch of enthusiasm Diego had heard in her voice a few days earlier.

He knew why she was so eager for a regime change. She was hoping things would improve and that Zorro would no longer be necessary to defend the pueblo from the evil government. That the masked man would also change his mind and sweep her off her feet, carrying her off on Toronado as they headed off into the sunset. She wanted a happy ending.

"You sound like you support Correna, Señora," said Mendoza, his slightly bitter words breaking through Diego's musings.

Victoria's eyes sparkled with fury. "I support any resistance that opposes the tyranny of men, Sergeant," she declared angrily.

The sound of calliope music silenced whatever Mendoza had been about to retort. They all turned to see a brightly painted wagon lumber to a stop underneath the pueblo gate. Diego squinted his eyes as he read the fancy lettering on the side of the caravan: _‘The Circus Rodriguez, Daring Acrobats, Clowns & Magic.'_ He smiled as he watched the sergeant head toward the wagon as if mesmerized.

"A circus," Diego said to no one in particular. "Isabella would certainly enjoy that."

Victoria chuckled and indicated Mendoza as he enthusiastically greeted the men driving the caravan. "I don't think only children can enjoy a circus," she stated. "I hope they plan to perform here. We need something to laugh at about now."

"Indeed, we do." Diego looked again at the sketch of Correna, wondering again why the man's face nagged at his brain as someone he should recognized. "Indeed, we do," he reiterated. He smiled at Victoria then stepped inside the tavern.

Z Z Z

Diego arrived back at the hacienda later that afternoon and headed straight toward the nursery. "Señora Batido!" he called out as he entered the room.

"Shh, _Patron_ ," the plump little nurse scolded. "Isabella is napping."

"Excellent," commented Diego as he glanced from the woman knitting in a rocking chair to the crib where his daughter slept. "The circus has come to town, Señora," he announced in a hushed tone. "They're to perform at the tavern tonight at seven o'clock."

"Oh, she'll love that," replied the niñera. "I'll make sure she's ready."

" _Gracias_." Diego stared down at the sleeping toddler. It was hard to believe that she was almost two years old. A lump formed in his throat as he couldn't imagine his life without her. She had been the one bright spot in the dark, hellish muddle he had made of his existence. 

He turned and headed for the door but then spun back around to face the nanny. "Has Doña Zafira been to see Isabella today?"

The woman shook her head. "No, _Patron_ ," she answered sadly. "She hasn't been here for nearly a week." She set down her knitting needles in her lap. "Forgive me for saying this, Patron," she began and Diego could hear the nervousness in her voice. "But I've never seen such an unnatural mother as the señora. It's as though she cares nothing for the poor child." The nurse gazed over at Isabella. "How could anyone not love this child?" she asked. "Some days I wish she were my own."

Diego opened his mouth to spout out some platitude that Zafira was high-strung and unused to being around children. But he refused to excuse her behavior anymore. 

"I don't know, Señora," he said wearily. "I want you to know how grateful I am that Isabella has you to take care of her."

" _Gracias, Patron_ ," the niñera murmured as she picked up her yarn again. "And I have to say that you more than make up for the señora. A child could not have a better father."

Slightly embarrassed, Diego nodded in acknowledgment of the nanny's compliment then departed the nursery. He couldn't help but dwell on the woman's words as he walked toward the library.

Z Z Z

Señora Batido had Isabella ready to go at the appointed time. Felipe drove the carriage into town while Diego sat with his daughter and several of the vaqueros' children in the cushioned seats. The excitement in the air was contagious and Diego couldn't help smiling.

The tavern was crowded with people, young and old, when Diego and his contingent arrived a little before seven. Victoria rushed over to them, herding the children to seats near the stage. When they were all settled, she turned to Felipe and Diego, who was carrying Isabella in his arms. 

"I've saved you seats right up front," she announced with a smile. She reached up and put her hand on Isabella's curly hair. "I wanted to make sure she would be able to see."

" _Gracias_ ," said Diego. He followed as she led them to three chairs in the very first row. Sergeant Mendoza sat on one side of the empty seats.

"Don Diego," he grinned as he greeted them. "Felipe. Sit down, sit down." Diego and Isabella sat down next to the jovial soldier. Much to Diego's chagrin, Victoria appropriated the chair next to his, leaving Felipe to sit on her left.

Isabella started to bounce up and down on her father's lap as the calliope music began playing. "Circus," she said, clapping her hands with delight. "I want to see clowns."

"In a minute, little one," Diego said with a chuckle. He glanced over at the beautiful woman next to him and saw again the wistful expression on her face as she looked at his daughter. She had a strong maternal instinct, quite unlike the woman he married. Guilt tore through him, knowing that his reckless actions had denied her a chance at becoming a mother.

"Here," he said huskily, thrusting the toddler toward her. Isabella immediately held out her arms to Victoria, who placed the little girl on her lap and hugged her. Her eyes darted to Diego and he noticed behind the gratitude, he saw sorrow.

[parts of the following scene taken from "The Old Flame" written by Tom Sawyer]

"Ladies and gentlemen and children of all ages!" 

The announcement drove all thoughts from Diego's head as Isabella squealed as two men dressed as clowns emerged from the kitchen and began to juggle. After an remarkable show of dexterity, one of the men asked for a volunteer from the crowd. Diego chuckled as Mendoza's good arm shot straight up in the air.

Although, Diego noted, the sergeant might have regretted his eagerness when he was placed against a board and the clown came back out on stage carrying a handful of lethal looking knives. The man picked one of the weapons and exaggeratingly aimed at the now nervous soldier. The first blade missed Mendoza's left ear by a mere fraction of an inch. A second knife followed, nearly missed his right ear.

After throwing more of the sharp weapons, outlining the sergeant's stout body, the clown tossed the last knife, which landed with a thud into the board above Mendoza's head. Diego led the applause as the man took a bow.

Mendoza laughed as he sat down. Diego thumped him on the back. "Well done, Sergeant," he said proudly. The soldier had displayed a measure of courage Diego had never knew the other man had possessed.

Again, his musings were interrupted by the clown who was loudly proclaiming the next act. Diego smiled skeptically at the supposed talent of the man being described as ‘the premiere acrobat of the universe', especially when a tall, thin man with dark curly hair and a oversized mustache walked out onto the stage, flourishing his arms dramatically.

Diego noticed as the man stumbled a little as he got up onto a small trampoline. The man started to jump up and down then grabbed his side. Seeing that the acrobat was turning a sickly shade of green, Diego watched as he resumed his bouncing. The man then doubled over and pitched forward off the apparatus. The clown dashed over and caught the man before he fell face first onto the wooden planks of the stage.

"No problem, no problem," the clown said reassuring as he dragged the man toward the kitchen. "We'll be right back. No problem."

The audience murmured with concern as the two men disappeared behind the curtains. Mendoza leaned over and tapped Diego on the arm. "Poor fellow," he said in a low voice. "He drinks."

Diego nodded absently. "Yes, it does take its toll," he acknowledged. Perhaps he was the only one who noticed, but the acrobat's mustache appeared to have come partway off as his compadre had pulled him off the stage. Very curious, he reflected.

"It is a shame that Don Alejandro is out of town," stated the sergeant.

Diego didn't have a chance to reply as the clown rushed out of the kitchen. "And the show will go on." he said breathlessly. "Ladies and gentlemen, for your delight, to mystify you with feats of magic, the incomparable, the magnifico. . .Antonio the Amazing!" 

There was a small bang and a cloud of white smoke suddenly shrouded the stage. A man dressed in a red-lined black cape and a black silk top hat pulled down low on his brow emerged from the fog, waving a red cloth in his right hand. He then tossed the fabric into the air and when he caught it, it had turned into a walking cane.

The audience clapped in appreciation. The magician then turned and picked up a copper bowl and lit it. He waved it about so that everyone could see before he lifted it up and down. The flames abruptly extinguished and the bowl was then filled with paper flowers. 

Antonio then stepped off the stage and approached Victoria, who still held Isabella on her lap, holding out the flowers. Diego got a good look at the man then, causing his breath to catch in his throat. 

The other man's eyes slid in his direction and he smiled malevolently. " _Hola, hermano_ ," he said sarcastically.

Diego couldn't believe his eyes as he stared up into the face of Zafira's presumed dead brother, Ricardo.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - Mentions of Diego's cousin and his wife, plus the revelation of Zafira's long-lost brother at the end of the chapter, inspired me to go with a common phrase containing the word relative.


	48. False of Heart

_Madre de Dios!_ Ricardo was alive and well and in Los Angeles. Diego thought briefly if Zafira knew her brother was in town. He hadn't seen her in days, let alone spoken to her. 

He sat in stunned silence as he watched the rest of his brother-in-law's performance. Ricardo was quite talented but Diego noticed his slight of hand wasn't perfect. He wondered when his wife's brother had become a magician. Had he given up his rebellious activities? And why was he using an alias?

Diego knew the only way he could learn the answers to his questions was to ask Ricardo himself. The next hour seem interminable as the circus carried on with its show. Ricardo appeared on stage again, this time as a sword swallower. Diego realized as the players took their final bows, the acrobat, Señor Alevar, had not returned.

People began to leave the tavern as Diego stood, intending to follow the performers to the kitchen. But Victoria blocked his way, a curious expression on her face as she still held his daughter.

"Papa!" Isabella shouted happily. "I love circus!" She held out her arms to him.

He reached out and gathered her close. "I'm glad, _princesa_ ," he said absently. He glanced down at the lovely innkeeper. "If you will excuse us."

"Of course," she agreed but he noticed the hurt look in her dark brown eyes as he moved past her and toward the kitchen.

The room was deserted except for one old woman who was gathering up pieces of clothing and stuffing them into a trunk. "Pardon me, Señora," he said. "I wanted my _hija_ to meet the clowns."

"They're out back." The woman jerked her thumb over her left shoulder. She added brusquely, "They're not in costume anymore."

"Oh," replied Diego. "Well, _gracias_ anyway."

He turned and walked through the curtained doorway back into the main room of the tavern which was nearly empty as the circus goers had mostly departed. He wasn't sure why he hadn't asked the woman for Ricardo by name. He just had a hunch his reception would have been even less friendly if he had done so. 

Shrugging, he carried Isabella outside and into the waiting carriage, where Felipe and Victoria had gathered up the ranch hands' children. They all waved at the innkeeper as the vehicle pulled away.

Z Z Z

Odd, Diego thought as the carriage came to a halt in front of the hacienda a short while later. There was only light coming from one window, the parlor's. It was the least used room of the house and he wondered who was inside. His father was still in Santa Barbara and wouldn't be home until the end of the week.

Felipe tapped his shoulder then signed that he would take the children back to their parents. " _Gracias_ ," Diego said as he watched the young man lead the chattering youngsters around the side of the hacienda. Bouncing Isabella in his arms, he turned and walked up to the front door.

"Zafira!" he called out as soon as he stepped inside, eager to share with her the news about her brother. "Zafira!"

For the second time that evening, he was shocked beyond words. He had turned toward the parlor where his wife was kneeling beside a man lying on a cream colored settee. She was pressing a white cloth against the man's abdomen.

"Zafira, what happened?" he asked as he moved closer. "Who is. . ."

His words trailed off as he suddenly recognized it was Señor Alevar being attended to by Zafira. He also grew aware three other men were in the room, the other performers from the circus. And his brother-in-law, Ricardo. Obviously his wife already knew her brother was still alive.

"What is going on?" he demanded a bit crossly. "Why are they here? How did Señor Alevar get injured?"

"He tore open his stitches," Zafira replied stonily as she dabbed at the acrobat's wound. 

"Why does he have. . .?" Diego started to ask.

" _Callarse!_ " barked Ricardo. He swirled around and looked down at the man on the sofa. "Should we kill him now?"

Diego was taken aback not only by his question but by how coldly it was delivered. Isabella began to whimper fretfully as she clutched at his jacket.

"No," Alevar rasped out. "Not yet." He struggled to sit up, waving away Zafira's protests. "I'll be fine, it's just a flesh wound. Señor de la Vega needs to be told the truth. Si, the truth about a great many things."

Zafira grabbed Alevar's arm and helped him stand up. "No, Joaquin," she stated agitatedly. "We don't have to do this."

_Joaquin_. An icy chill ran down the length of Diego's spine. He had heard that name before. He took a good look at the man standing unsteadily before him. _Dios mio_ , he was Joaquin Correna, the leader of the group of murderous rebels who had been terrorizing the territory. Now he knew why the other man seemed familiar. He remembered seeing him once in Ricardo's company during his brief courtship of Zafira, although they had never been formally introduced.

Then Diego noted in the intimate way his wife was holding onto the wanted criminal. Joaquin. Then he remembered how she had said that name that night aboard the ship while on their journey to California. The night she had learned about the siege of Segovia and how the rebel fighters had been defeated. He recalled her tears that night, tears he had thought were for her sibling. Had they instead been for this man?

Correna turned and stared at Zafira. "Are you backing out on us, _querida_?" he queried harshly. He glanced from her to Diego. "Have you been lying to me as well as your husband?"

Zafira shook her head mutely as Diego grappled with the meaning of what the outlaw was saying. He put a protective hand on his daughter's back. "I need to take her to her niñera," he stated as Isabella nuzzled against him sleepily.

"No, she stays," contradicted Correna. He turned back to look at Zafira. "Do you want to start or should I?" She shook her head again and Joaquin laughed mirthlessly. "Very well," he said. He stared at Diego.

"I can see that you have figured out who I am," the bandit stated. "And that your wife knows about her dear brother. But what you don't know is that she's known for more than two years now."

It was beginning to make sense now, Diego reasoned. The long rides, the secretive behavior. She had been going out to meet with Ricardo and his friends. But, he told him, there was more to it than that. And he knew intuitively he wasn't going to like what he was about to hear.

" _Si_ , she's been meeting with us," Correna confirmed. "It took us nearly a year to recover from the wounds we received at Segovia, Ricardo and I. And it was another year before we discovered that you had taken Zafira to California." He paused and glared at her. "Even though she was instructed to keep you in Spain at any cost."

"She is my wife," Diego said through clenched teeth. "And this is my home. My father summoned. . ."

"Silence!" Joaquin cut off his explanation. "We know all that. Still, she was to make sure that you didn't leave Madrid. We needed you there. We needed your connections to the royal family."

Again Diego was astounded by the revelation. "My connections?" he inquired in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"It was simple, really," declared Correna. "Zafira was to marry you, keep you in Spain, and we were going to use you to get close to King Ferdinand so that we could assassinate him."

The outlaw continued on before Diego could recover his senses. "Granted, the plan had to be implemented a bit sooner that we intended. We didn't think even you were stupid enough to believe that a baby born more than two months prematurely could be yours."

Zafira had been pregnant with another man's baby when they had gotten married? Diego had never lain with a virgin before their wedding night and obviously, he still hadn't. He recalled thinking at the time of the odd similarity between his supposedly innocent wife and his much more experienced mistress. He had known of the thin barrier that proved a woman's virtue, but hadn't noticed it was missing when he had made love to Zafira their first time together. He had been too infatuated, too eager, to seek something he had never before encountered.

Then he realized there had been no child. "What happened to the. . .?" he started to ask.

"I miscarried, on the ship," Zafira stated stoically. "The night I learned about Segovia." She stared down at her feet. "I told myself it was for the best. . ." A hiccup interrupted her speech and Diego saw the moisture gathering in her blue eyes.

"And the other miscarriage?" he queried. "Whose child was that?"

"Yours," she choked out. 

"Did you get rid out it?" he ground out heatedly.

"No," she replied and he could tell she was telling the truth. _The truth_. She wouldn't know it if it bit her on the nose, he thought disgustedly. Then he realized that he still held Isabella in his arms. 

"Who does she belong to?" he asked, as he indicated the little girl. His gut churned sickly as he knew deep down, he already knew the answer.

"She's mine," declared Correna. "As was the first one she lost." He grinned maliciously. "Haven't you figured it out yet, de la Vega? Zafira is my lover and has been long before she ever met you. She's been sneaking out nearly every day and making love with me while you slept in your lonely bed night after night with your misguided notion of remaining faithful to a woman you don't even love.

"She even gave you a chance to relieve your celibacy," the other man sneered. He chuckled at what Diego knew was a nonplussed expression on his face. "Amanda Herrera," Joaquin elucidated. He swept his hand at the other four men in the room. "They all sampled her charms. But you were too honorable to take what the little whore had to offer."

Diego glanced over at Zafira, seeing the guilty look on her face. He found he was liking this conversation less and less as too many of his suspicions were being confirmed as fact.

"So why reveal this all now?" he wanted to know. "Why wait until now to start attacking government troops?

"When Ricardo and I arrived in California," Correna said, "we had no money, no men, _nada_. We had to start from scratch. We used our little circus as a cover to travel from pueblo to pueblo, gathering information and people with the same goals as we.

"It seems the citizens of this territory are ripe for rebellion," he went on, "even more so than in Spain. It has been incredibly easy to recruit members. More people support us than you might think."

Diego thought of Victoria and how she had been for the freedom these men's actions promised. He supposed even Zorro could be viewed as a advocate. They both wanted to end the oppression of the people of California. Their methods were greatly varied, though, as were their motives.

Diego then turned to his wife. "What are you planning to do now, Zafira?" He tightened his grip on Isabella. It didn't matter to him she was not his biological child. He _was_ her father, in all the ways it counted. He wouldn't surrender her to his unfaithful wife and her outlaw lover. Not without a fight.

"We're leaving Los Angeles," Correna answered instead of Zafira. "And we're taking her with us."

Diego nodded as he suspected as much. He felt a bit ashamed by his relief at the other man's pronouncement. He wasn't about to stand in the way of a wife who didn't want him and was sleeping with another man. He thought of the night he had believed Isabella had been conceived and shuddered, sickened to know she had already been pregnant with her paramour's child.

"You really don't care, do you?" asked Zafira. Diego was sure he had misheard the hurt in her tone. But her next words revealed just how his cavalier acceptance of her departure bothered her. "I meant what I told you that time," she declared spitefully, "that I was disgusted every time you touched me. You never knew that I closed my eyes and pretended you were Joaquin every time we. . ."

"Be quiet, I've heard enough." Diego was shaking with fury. He turned to Correna. "Get her out of my sight," he said forcefully. "Just take her and get out."

Joaquin shook his head. "I think you misunderstood me before, _amigo_ ," he said "When I said we were taking her with us, I meant Isabella."

Diego, amazed that he could still be so flummoxed by Correna's declaration, hugged the toddler to his chest. "She's staying here," he asserted resolutely. "I'm her legal father."

" _Si_ , and she's her mother," said Correna, pointing to Zafira. "You know she's not yours. Why would you still want her?" He didn't wait for Diego's response. "She's mine and I'm not leaving here without her."

"She hasn't cared for this child since the day she was born," stated Diego, thrusting his chin at his wife. Which, now that he thought about it, was strange. One would have thought having a baby with the man she loved would have created a special bond between the mother and infant. Zafira had been indifferent from the beginning. "You're taking Isabella over my dead body," he added unequivocally.

"Ah, _si_ ," Joaquin said as he drew out a pistol and aimed it at Diego. "I was hoping you would say that. You see, the one thing we haven't told you yet is that when we planned to use you to assassinate the king, we were going to kill you once you had reached the end of your usefulness."

He cocked back the hammer on his weapon. "And that usefulness, Señor," he began, " has just expired." He motioned at Ricardo with the gun. "Take the child," he ordered. "I don't want her used as a shield."

"I would never put my daughter at risk," Diego declared through gritted teeth. "Only a dishonorable snake like yourself would ever think to do. . ."

He broke off the rest of what he had been about to say as his brother-in-law stepped forward and grabbed at Isabella. Diego, for a split second, thought about resisting but then the idea of the innocent little girl being injured in the ensuing struggle was more than he could bear. He allowed her to be taken from his arms.

Ricardo carried his niece back over to stand again behind Correna. "So this is _adios_ , de la Vega," Joaquin said dispassionately. "Time to say your prayers."

"Joaquin, no!" Zafira cried out, grasping at his arm. "We don't have to do this. He'll let us go. He doesn't want her to be harmed."

"Shut up, woman," her lover responded angrily, shaking off her hands. He looked intently at Diego. "He won't rest until he has her back," he stated, echoing Diego's own thoughts. "He has to be disposed of. It's been the plan since the beginning."

He took his eyes off Diego to glance at Zafira. "You're not getting cold feet, are you?" he asked scornfully. "Don't tell me you have some feelings for him after all."

"He doesn't deserve this, Joaquin," she said vehemently. "He's a good man." She gazed up at Diego. "I'm sorry, Diego," she murmured. "I want you to know that."

"Enough!" shouted Correna. He pushed Zafira away roughly before raising the pistol, aiming it straight at Diego's heart. " _Vaya con Dios_ , de la Vega."

With an odd detachment, Diego watched as the other man squeezed the trigger. He heard the explosion of powder and braced himself for the pain he knew he would feel for a brief moment before he would feel no more.

Only it didn't come. He stared in horror as Zafira ran out in front of him and the bullet meant to pierce his heart penetrated her forehead instead.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - In this chapter, Diego learns the depth of his wife's treachery, and just how false her heart has been.


	49. Redemption

Blood splattered the front of Diego's white linen shirt. Isabella screamed in terror as Zafira seem suspended in mid-air for a moment before she started crumpling toward the floor. Diego instinctively reached out and caught her before she could hit the hard tile. He grabbed her wrist and was stunned to feel her pulse still beating. He looked down at her pale face with the streaks of crimson pouring from the hole on the left side of her forehead.

"Don't. . . Don't. . ." she whispered as he felt her life flowing out of her as he held her in his arms. "Don't let him. . . take her. Don't let him. . ." A trickle of blood appeared at the corner of her mouth. "I want. . . I want. . ."

What she wanted was to forever remain a mystery as she died, her lips parted as if she was still going to speak. Diego closed his eyes and said a prayer for the repose of her soul.

" _Dios mio! Dios mio!_ " yelled an anguished Correna. "Zafira! Zafira!" He knelt down beside Diego and picked up her other arm. "Is she dead?" he asked, not giving Diego a chance to answer before adding, "I didn't mean to shoot her." His head snapped up and he glared at Diego. "I meant to kill you, you bastard," he snarled. He waved his hand at his men. "Give me a pistol."

The front door of the hacienda banged open at that moment, distracting the bereaved bandit. Victoria ran in to the foyer, turning first to the library before looking in the direction of the parlor. 

"I heard a gunshot," she announced. "What's going. . ." She paused, her eyes growing round with horror as she saw the tragic tableau before her. 

"Come on, Joaquin, we need to get out of here," one of the other men insisted nervously. 

"That's what I came to tell you," Victoria declared urgently. "The soldiers know you're here. They're right behind me." She stared again at Zafira's limp body as Diego still cradled her. "I came to warn you," she added awkwardly.

The sound of hoof beats then the loud whinnies of horses told them her alert had come too late. The hacienda began filling with lancers, their muskets targeted at the men in the de la Vega parlor. Mendoza marched past his men, his sword drawn. 

"Joaquin Correna," he announced, "you and your men are under arrest by order of King Ferdinand." He waved his blade at the outlaws. "Take them." He looked askance at Victoria and she stared back at him mutinously. Then the sergeant glanced downward.

" _Madre de Dios!_ " he gasped. His eyes met Diego's as Correna was yanked to his feet by one of the lancers. "Is she. . .?"

Diego nodded. "Victoria," he said in a choked voice. "Could you. . ." He jerked his head at Ricardo who still held the softly sobbing Isabella as one of the lancers advanced his way. 

Victoria went over and took the little girl from her uncle's arms. "It's all right, _princesa_ ," she murmured soothingly, running her hand over the little girl's curls. "It's all right."

"Papa?" the now snuffling toddler asked. "Papa?"

"I'm here, Isabella." Diego grabbed a pillow off the settee and placed it on the floor before gently lowering Zafira's head onto it. He stood up and Victoria moved toward him, immediately relinquishing the child to him. He embraced her tightly.

"Did she see?" inquired Victoria quietly. All around them, the lancers were handcuffing the rebels and leading them away. Diego saw out of the corner of his eye Felipe standing at the entrance of the parlor, along with Señora Batido, and several of the other servants.

He wondered how much they had seen and heard. He knew it was selfish but he hoped it had been the gunshot that had summoned them and they hadn't been there when Correna had revealed Isabella wasn't his. He looked at the retainers' faces, white with shock. Only Felipe's countenance bore evidence he had been present for most of the encounter. Inwardly he sighed with relief, knowing the secret would be safe with the young man.

"Yes," he finally said in response to the innkeeper's query. "She saw everything."

"Poor little thing," cooed Victoria. "Let's pray that she's too young to remember any of this."

"Yes," Diego agreed wholeheartedly. He spun around and went over to the ashen faced nanny. "Put Isabella to bed, _por favor_ ," he instructed. He kissed his daughter's cheek before turning her over to the señora.

"Of course, Patron," the plump little nurse said. She carried Isabella away, fussing over the fretful child.

The other servants took the niñera's departure as a sign they should all go too. The lancers were leading the last of Correna's followers out of the hacienda. Only Mendoza remained behind. "I'll notify the undertaker," he said to Diego as he looked down at his boots.

" _Gracias_ , Sergeant." Diego watched remotely as the stout soldier walked out the front door.

"Diego, I'm so sorry." Victoria's sincere tones came from behind him. "If there's anything I can do. . ." 

" _Gracias_ , Victoria," he said automatically. He turned around to gaze at her. He was a widower, he suddenly realized, as he noticed the innkeeper's sad expression. Just as she had been widowed only a few months earlier. And Zafira's death had been every bit as unexpected and violent as Juan Ortiz's had been.

He took a step toward her then checked himself, clenching his hands into tight fists. _Dios_ , he meant to sweep her up into his arms, wanting to comfort her as much as he wanted her to comfort him. His dead wife was lying only a few feet away and he could only think about how he was now free. That he could be with Victoria, the woman he truly loved, as he should have been for all these years.

Disgusted with himself, he pivoted away and went back over to crouch next to Zafira. He took out a handkerchief from his waistband and tried to clean away the blood drying on her face. "Felipe," he said as he looked up and met the young man's gaze. "Please see that Victoria gets home safely."

With a servile nod, Felipe reached out and took her arm. She went with him willingly, but not before throwing one last concerned glance in Diego's direction. He lowered his head, unable to met her pitying gaze.

He waited for the sorrow to overtake him, the grief of knowing the woman he had been married to for over five years was dead. A wife he once cared for, even if he hadn't truly loved her. A woman he had been intimate with; with whom he had thought they had a child together.

But it didn't come. He wondered if it was numbness caused from learning how she had betrayed him for so long; since the beginning of their relationship it seemed. He realized the incident in the marketplace in Madrid when she had bumped into him had been staged, that it had been no accident. And that she had lured him into proposing that night after the opera, deliberating leading him on, acting like an outraged virgin. And now he finally had his answer as to why she had insisted they marry straightaway. She had been pregnant with Correna's child and she had wanted to pass it off as his.

He couldn't help but wonder if they had planned on using the child, which he would have obliviously thought was his; just as he assumed Isabella to be; to gain his cooperation in their plot against King Ferdinand. Probably, as his wife and her lover appeared to have no moral boundaries they wouldn't cross.   
So many things made sense now. The fit she had had when he informed her they were leaving for California. Her behavior on the voyage across the Atlantic. The separate bedrooms. Her mercurial moods. Her hatred of him.

He was sickened by the thought she had planned his seduction by her best friend. All this time, he had fought against his baser urges, vowing to remain faithful to her while she had been committing adultery with Correna and laughing at him behind his back.

Diego gazed down at Zafira and the memory of her final moments crowded his mind. Maybe she had thought her lover wouldn't fire if she stood in his way. She hadn't realized it had been too late, Correna had already pulled the trigger. It was of no consequence, however, as the outcome couldn't be altered. She was dead. 

_Dios mio_. No matter how miserable their marriage had been, he had never wished for his wife's death. He might have chafed at the ties binding her to him from time to time, but he had been determined to see it through, through sickness and health, for good times and bad, the latter of which there had been plenty.

He stroked her hair away from her face then lifted her lifeless hand to his lips. "I promised you I will raise Isabella the best that I can. That she will grow up knowing only the good things about her mother," he swore solemnly. 

He was still hunched down beside her when the undertaker finally showed up just before dawn.

Z Z Z

It was mid-afternoon the next day before Diego woke up in his own bed with no knowledge of how he had ended up there. He rose immediately and hastily dressed in a clean shirt and a pair of trousers. Running his fingers through his hair, he exited the room, wondering what had gone on while he had slept.

He first went to the parlor. For some reason, he was surprised to see that Zafira was no longer lying on the floor. The blood-stained carpet had also disappeared, either to be cleaned or destroyed, he surmised uncaringly.

Next he went to the nursery. Isabella and her nurse weren't there and he panicked. He ran out of the room and down the hallway. "Maria!" he called out for the de la Vega housekeeper.

He stopped when he reached the foyer. Maria calmly walked out of the dining room. " _Si, Patron?_ " she asked in her usual unflappable manner.

"Where's Isabella?" he demanded harshly. "She's not in the nur. . ."

"I believe Señora Batido took her out for a walk," the housekeeper replied. "She said something about the fresh air doing the child some good."

Diego breathed a sigh of relief. The nanny was probably right. In fact, he felt like escaping the confines of the hacienda right then as well.

" _Patron?_ "

Hearing the hesitant note in her question, Diego looked up at her. "What is it, Maria?"

"I just want to let you know on behalf of myself and all the staff," she began stiffly, "how sorry we are about Doña Zafira's passing." 

He eyed her curiously. It was no secret his wife had not been a favorite amongst the hacienda's servants. Diego saw the housekeeper was truly sincere in her offering of sympathy but it was more about how he had been affected than by any sorrow Zafira was gone.

Feeling he was going to be barraged with similar expressions of grief, he quickly murmured his thanks and headed toward the library. He tapped the mantle and the back panel of the fireplace swung open.

Diego heard the sound of a broom being moved across the stone floor and knew Felipe was in the cave, just where he expected the lad would be. 

"Felipe," he said as he walked under the archway and down the small set of steps. The sweeping noise ceased instantly and Diego easily spotted the youth over by Toronado's stall. Felipe set the broom aside and hesitantly moved forward.

"Felipe," he repeated. "You heard, didn't you?" The young man nodded, not bothering to pretend he didn't know what Diego was referring to. "It has to remain a secret between us," he stated. "If anyone else found out," he continued, "it could be devastating for Isabella and my father. They must never know."

Acknowledging Diego's words with another nod, Felipe gestured briefly with his hands. "Yes," Diego agreed passionately. "She must never know what kind of woman her mother truly was."

He turned to his laboratory table and picked up a test tube. "She _is_ my daughter," he said, more to himself than to the youth who came over and stood beside him. "I don't think I could love her anymore even if she were really mine." He glanced at Felipe. "And as I love you, even though you're not my natural son." 

He realized he could now adopt Felipe, he no longer needed Zafira's approval to do so. As soon as things had quieted down, he told himself, he would see about getting the proceedings started. He smiled crookedly as the lad looked up at him embarrassedly before signing that the feeling was mutual.

Sighing deeply, he put his arm around Felipe's shoulders. "Well, I suppose I should go and face the music, hmm," he said. There were so many arrangements to make, none of which he was looking forward to doing. But the worst thing to deal with was going to be breaking the news to his father, who was due home that evening. The old don was going to be devastated to learn of his daughter-in-law's death. His affection for Zafira had hardly wavered since the moment Diego had brought her home.

Diego wished he could put it - along with everything else - off indefinitely.

Z Z Z

Standing at the foot of the casket, Diego tried to listen as Padre Benitez recited words in Latin, but the priest's voice became a droning buzz in his ears. His thoughts drifted away, as he wanted to be any where but where he was, attending his wife's funeral. Pretending to be the bereaved husband, pretending to care about a wife whose infidelity had nearly gotten him killed.

He impassively scanned the faces of the people gathered around the open grave. He knew that most of them were there out of respect for himself and his father, and not because of the woman being buried that day. Zafira had never fit in; had never tried; with the good people of Los Angeles. Even after living among them for five years, she had remained a stranger, an outsider.

He knew the story of his wife's heroic sacrifice had spread through the pueblo like wildfire, that she had taken a bullet meant for him. That Correna and his men had attempted to take her and Isabella as hostages and he had tried to stop them. Diego didn't care what the rumors were, just as long as no one found out the truth of Isabella's parentage.

It was the one thing that penetrated his numbness, uncomfortably needling his being. Learning of the depth of Zafira's betrayal had devastated him. Diego berated himself over and over again in the days since her death for not noticing the obvious signs that his wife was leading a secret life unbeknownst to him. 

Although, he reminded himself with a touch of irony, he had been doing the same thing with his masquerade as Zorro. He was almost one hundred percent certain that Zafira had never found out about his alter ego. She wouldn't have been able to keep such knowledge to herself. Oh, he doubted she would have turned him over to the authorities; no, instead she would have been more subtle, blackmailing him into doing what she wanted. Perhaps even forcing him to join her subversive little band of rebels.

His gaze finally rested upon Victoria, who was dressed in her widow's weeds, standing between his father and Felipe along the right side of coffin. As always, whenever he saw her, a thrill of longing coursed through him. He averted his eyes, appalled with himself that he could lust after another woman while standing beside his wife's grave. It didn't matter Victoria was the woman he should have married. That she was the one that he truly loved.

She, too, had once taken a bullet meant for him. She, too, had once saved his life. It, too, was something he would never forget. He closed his eyes as a staggering thought sprang into his mind, causing guilt to slice through him like a knife. 

Zafira _had_ saved his life at the cost of her own. Whatever else she had done in her short life, to him and to others, she had redeemed herself in that one noble action. And he was surprised that he found within himself the capability to forgive her for all her transgressions.

". . . _Dei requiéscant in pace_."

Padre Benitez's words were answered by a subdued amen, signally the end of the service. Diego turned and saw a large spray of red roses that had stood behind him. He impulsively pulled one of the flowers out of the display and tossed it down upon Zafira's coffin.

"Rest in peace," he murmured sincerely before turning around and walking away.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - Diego's belief that Zafira had redeemed herself by taking the bullet meant for him, as an atonement for her sins against him.


	50. One for Sorrow, Two for Joy

"Diego."

His father's impatient voice broke through Diego's morose musings. The constant litany of regrets and doubts that paraded through his mind nearly every minute of every day.

"What?" Diego looked up from the plate of eggs and bacon he had been pushing about instead of eating. "I'm sorry."

Don Alejandro's gaze softened and Diego winced inwardly. The elder de la Vega had been more than understanding about his need to be alone, thinking his son was spending his time grieving the loss of his wife.

Nothing could be further from the truth, thought Diego. He instead was wracked with guilt and worry. Guilt over how Zafira had died. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see her stepping in front of him and the bullet hitting her instead of him. And guilt he wasn't sorry that she was gone.

The worry was caused by Isabella. In reality, she was an orphan now. Joaquin Correna and his band of revolutionaries, including Ricardo, had been executed by firing squad in Monterey about a month after Zafira's death. Diego couldn't help but be anxious though, that someone would find out he wasn't Isabella's real father and take her away from him. The thought frightened him more than anything else he had ever had to face.

The fact she never asked for Zafira was troubling as well. Granted, his departed wife had spared little time for her child. But Isabella had still been aware of her presence, had known Zafira was her mother. Diego had tried to speak of her to the toddler on several occasions but stopped when he realized that he was only confusing the little girl.

"I'm going into town," his father stated, once again chasing away Diego's line of thinking. "I'm going to make some inquiries about our missing mare. Do you want to come with me?"

" _Si_ , I'll go," he said. "Let me check on Isabella first."

"Right," said the old don. "I'll get our horses saddled."

It was a short while later that they were on the road to the pueblo. Don Alejandro kept up a steady stream of chatter. Diego would nod or grunt whenever necessary, which thankfully, wasn't too often.

Diego was also grateful when they met up with another caballero, Don Jose. He rode on ahead to Los Angeles while his father questioned the other man about the prized mare.

His thoughts drifted to what was waiting ahead for him in town. Victoria. He was afraid of the temptation she represented now that he was no longer bound to a woman he didn't love. He had tried to avoid her for the three months since Zafira's passing. Propriety demanded he mourn his wife for nine more months. He glanced down at the black armband he wore around the left sleeve of his dark blue jacket.

Diego rode beneath the pueblo gate, bestirring himself from his troublesome contemplation. In a matter of minutes, he was ducking his head slightly as he passed through the tavern's front doors.

The first person he spotted was Victoria. She was behind the bar, wiping its top with a white cloth. She looked as beautiful to him as she had since the day he arrived back home from Spain. His resolve weakened even further when she slowly lifted her gaze and smiled at him.

" _Hola_ , Don Diego," she said brightly. Not trusting himself to speak, he acknowledged her with a nod.

"How is Isabella?" she asked, her voice full of concern.

"She's fine," he replied truthfully.

Victoria bit her lip agitatedly. "She doesn't remember anything about. . ." She hesitated before continuing in a whisper. "About what happened, does she?"

Diego shook his head. It was true, Isabella seem untouched by the fact she had witnessed her mother's horrific death.

I've been so worried about her," Victoria stated earnestly. It occurred then to Diego she, too, had witnessed the death of her own mother. Señora Escalante had been executed by a firing squad for aiding a wounded man who just happened to be a rebel. Diego could only guess at the painful memories the lovely innkeeper kept buried deep within her heart.

Their eyes met in the dim light of the smoky tavern. Diego could have sworn he saw sparks flare up between them. He was, however, unable to read the look on her face and hoped that his own expression was shuttered as well. He didn't want her to see the naked desire for her that filled his soul.

"Don Diego!" Sergeant Mendoza's hearty greeting broke the intense interlude, especially when the portly soldier slapped Diego enthusiastically on the back. "Come join us," he invited, waving his other hand at the group of lancers who were noisily seating themselves at a nearby table.

" _Gracias_ , Sergeant." Diego glanced at Victoria and saw the knowing smile on her lips. With a tense laugh, he accompanied Mendoza over to the table before ordering a round of drinks for them all.

For the next half hour, he listened with one ear to the soldiers' conversation while watching Victoria as she wended her way about the tavern, attending to her customers. His mood sank a little when she carried a tray filled with glasses of wine to one of the tables outside on the tavern's porch. Diego noted absently a stagecoach had pulled up in front of the building. Must be the San Diego stage, he mused idly before taking a sip of his lemonade.

[parts of the following scene taken from "A Love Remembered" written by Gary Stephen Rieck & Joe Gunn]

Loud voices in the plaza caught the attention of everyone in the tavern. Diego looked toward the opened front doors as Victoria rushed inside, instantly seeking him out.

"Diego," she beckoned wildly. "It's your father. Come quick!"

Fearing the worst, Diego jumped out of his chair and ran outside after her. The sight of de Soto aiming a pistol at his father's chest stopped him in his tracks. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a brown mare, one that looked exactly like the one that was missing from the de la Vega stables.

Diego immediately stepped in between the two men, forcing his old schoolmate to lower his weapon. After deciding Padre Benitez would take custody of the animal in question until a magistrate could decide ownership, Diego led the elder de la Vega back over to the tavern. But unfortunately not before the old don accused the Alcalde of stealing the horse. Diego didn't like the expression on de Soto's face. His father had raised the other man's ire.

The de la Vegas reached the wooden planked porch of the tavern then started to go inside.

"Excuse me," a woman's voice said. "Alejandro?"

Catching the attention of both men, they turned around to view the woman standing on the porch, a valise near her feet. Obviously just off the stage, Diego surmised, wondering how she knew his father's name. He had never before seen the woman, who appeared to be only a few years younger than the old don. Her age had done nothing to diminish her beauty though.

" _Si_ ," Don Alejandro replied. Diego watched as the elder de la Vega assessed the woman. "Excuse me. . .uh," his father said with a nervousness that surprised Diego. "Have we met before?"

The woman smiled, and even Diego was a bit dazzled by it. "It's been a long time, Alejandro," she stated in a wistful voice.

The old don seemed to drift off for a few moments, causing Diego to be concerned about his mental state. His father, not counting Correna and Ricardo, was the only person to grieve Zafira's death and he had taken it hard. 

Finally Don Alejandro laughed and said, "Mercedes Sanchez." Then he stunned Diego by embracing the woman then twirled her around the porch as they both laughed.

The elder de la Vega set the woman back onto her feet. "You came back!" he cried out happily.

"I said I would."

"But I never believed you!"

It was as if they were lost in their own little world, Diego mused, brimming with curiosity. Who was this woman? And what had she been to his father? He coughed discreetly into his fist.

The old don turned and seemed shocked for a second or two to find his son standing there beside him. "Oh, forgive me," he addressed the woman. He proudly placed his left hand on Diego's right shoulder. "This is my son, Diego." Then his right hand disappeared behind the woman's back. "Diego, this is la señorita Mercedes Sanchez."

Diego bowed politely as he said, "How do you do?" The introduction still told him nothing about her. But the elder de la Vega's next words nearly floored him.

"Long before I ever met your mother," his father declared with an expression that Diego hadn't seen since his mother had died, "this lady was the love of my life."

Z Z Z

Diego learned over the course of the next several days, that Mercedes had lived on a neighboring rancho and she and his father had been childhood sweethearts. Don Alejandro's parents had not approved of the match, saying they were both to young to know their own minds.

Smiling, Diego could well imagine the old don as a strong-willed and rebellious sixteen year-old, mainly since he wasn't so different now. The fourteen year-old Mercedes must have been just as fiery as her parents had also opposed any marriage between the young couple, wanting them to wait as well.

The Sanchezes had shipped off their daughter to relatives near Mexico City; his father had enlisted in the army and was promptly sent to Spain where he had met Diego's mother. Mercedes had married as well, but she had been a widow for nearly a year. She had come back to Los Angeles to sell her family's land because, she told them bluntly, her husband had left her nearly destitute because of his propensity for gambling.

Diego sensed her marriage had been an unhappy one, and like himself, she didn't mourn the loss of her spouse. She no longer wore mourning, even though society dictated that she should for at least a twelve month period. Maybe she couldn't afford it, Diego thought with a shrug, if this Antonio Villero she had wed had left her as bad off as she claimed.

Don Alejandro had insisted she stay with them and she finally acquiesced when she realized he wouldn't take no for an answer. Diego found he didn't mind having the señora around. She had made a fuss over Isabella, telling his father she envied him because of his son and granddaughter. 

"Antonio and I," she said sadly, "we. . .never had children." But there was a sadness in her eyes as she spoke, leaving Diego to wonder if there had been a baby or the hope of one once.

[parts of the following scene taken from "A Love Remembered" written by Gary Stephen Rieck & Joe Gunn]

She had been there less than a week, but Diego could see the positive impact she was having on his father. He watched them as they sat at the dining room table where, like every night, they reminisced about people and events long past. 

"I must have been around fifteen or seventeen at the time," the elder de la Vega said as his eyes had a faraway look to them. He smiled over at Mercedes. "I practiced night and day. I wanted to be the best swordsman in the whole world with both hands."

Diego, sprawled carelessly in his chair at the opposite end of the table, toyed listlessly with his meal. Idly, he wondered what his father would say if he knew his son was a master swordsman no matter which hand held his blade? The old don had disparaged him and his fencing ability for so long, Diego doubted the elder de la Vega would even believe him, even if he saw the proof of it before his very eyes.

Mercedes's low chuckle drew him back to the current conversation. "As I recall," she purred smugly, "you had other things on your mind that night."

Diego was surprised to see his father's lined cheeks turn red. Rationally, he knew it was unlikely the elder de la Vega had been a virgin when he married Diego's mother. Had Mercedes Sanchez been his first lover and he hers? An irrational pain filled his chest. He sat up in his chair.

"Ah, Father," he said in what he hoped was a teasing tone, "you never told me about that part of your youth."

If anything, the blush on his father's face grew darker. "Well," the old don said before bringing his napkin to his lips. "Let's just say I didn't want to spend the best years of my life cooped up with books, Diego," he replied.

Holding up his hands as a gesture of surrender, Diego glanced over at the señora, who was unsuccessfully trying to suppress a smile. Don Alejandro got to his feet. "I'll get some more coffee," he announced before bowing toward Mercedes. " _Con permiso_."

The older woman turned to him as soon as the elder de la Vega left the room. "You love your father, don't you?" she asked seriously.

"Yes," came his immediate reply. Despite the disdain Don Alejandro held for his only son and his ‘artistic pursuits', Diego couldn't imagine what his life would be like without his father in it. He shook his head then smiled wryly. "Although there are times when he does his best to make it difficult."

Don Alejandro returned then with a tray of coffee. Feeling a bit like a third wheel, Diego yawn and started to rise from his chair. 

"Well, if you'll forgive me," he said, "I have to be up early in the morning."

His father glanced at him appreciatively. "You're forgiven. _Buenas noches_ , Diego," he said brusquely, giving Diego the impression he, too, thought his son's presence as superfluous.

"Are you coming with me to Santa Paula tomorrow?" Diego asked. It was a trip that had been planned for well over a month.

"Oh, I forgot," replied the old don. "The cattle auction."

Diego decided to give the elder de la Vega a break, knowing he would rather spend the day with Mercedes than with a bunch of smelly cows. "Well, why don't you show Mercedes around her rancho and, uh, I'll take care of the auction myself, hmm?" he suggested.

"Thank you." The relief in his father's voice was almost tangible.

Diego said his goodnights and headed down the hallway to the nursery to check on Isabella before going to his own room.

He awoke a little after sunrise and dressed quickly. Figuring to grab a bite of breakfast before he left, he was surprised to see his father wasn't already in the dining room. The elder de la Vega was always up at dawn. A interrogation of the servants turned up no clue as to the old don's whereabouts.

Praying that his father wasn't ill, Diego strode toward Don Alejandro's bedroom. He couldn't leave now, not without knowing and not without saying goodbye.

He pushed open the door to his father's room and stepped inside. "Fa. . ." The word died on his lips as he stared at the sight in front of him.

Don Alejandro and Mercedes were nestled together like spoons in his father's bed. The elder de la Vega's bare arm curled possessively around the señora told him all he needed to know.

It seemed that Diego was going to acquire a new mother. Whether he liked it or not.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - From a children's nursery rhyme (of which there are several versions) - One for sorrow, two for joy, three for a girl, four for a boy, five for silver, six for gold, seven for a secret never to be told. According to superstition, it is used to count magpies (or crows), determining good or bad luck by how many birds counted.


	51. Resilience

Tiptoeing as he backed out of the room, Diego then quietly closed the door. _Madre de Dios!_ Of all the scenarios he had conjured up to explain his father's absence. . . Well, what he had just witnessed certainly never even crossed his mind.

He leaned against the wall outside the bedroom, trying to reason with himself. His father was a grown man. A widower whose wife had died over fifteen years earlier. He was betraying no one, he was breaking no vows. The Bible and the Church would say such behavior was wrong. But Diego had long believed it was rather idealistic to expect men and women to only engage in sexual activity within the holy bonds of matrimony. 

But it still hurt. Tears came unbidden to his eyes as he recalled his mother. She had been so beautiful and so loving. It had torn his heart out when she had died when he was twelve. And Diego remembered his father's grief at her passing, so unlike his own demeanor since Zafira's death.

Diego struggled to push aside his selfish thoughts and tried to be happy for his father. It wasn't as though Mercedes was some stray woman the elder de la Vega had taken to his bed. She had been his first love and probably the woman he had lost his virginity to, giving hers in return. By rights, they should have been married long ago.

But then, he, Diego de la Vega, in his current reincarnation, wouldn't have existed, he mused philosophically. But then, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad thing as he contemplated his wretched existence.

Shaking his head and sighing, Diego walked away from the bedroom door. He would just have to talk to his father tomorrow when he returned home from Santa Paula.

Z Z Z

Diego was on his way back home to Los Angeles, thinking not of the successful time he had had at the auction, buying several head of prime cattle. Behind him, two of the de la Vegas's vaqueros were herding the new acquisitions home.

Instead he was contemplating what to say to his father about his revived relationship with his lost love. He had agonized for at least the past five miles whether to mention what he had inadvertently stumbled upon the previous morning.

He was so caught up in his thoughts he didn't notice a rider coming toward him on the road, pushing his mount as if the hounds of hell were after him until the other man was almost upon him.

"Felipe?" he queried, instantly recognizing the youth as they both reined their horses to a halt. The lad began gesturing wildly.

"Calm down," Diego said patiently. "What's happened?"

He knew that it wasn't good news. Something very bad must have occurred for Felipe to have ridden out in search of him.

The young man began telling his story, via hand signals, of how he had been eavesdropping outside the cuartel jail, where the alcalde was holding a man named Antonio Villero who had come to the pueblo the day before and who had fought with Sergeant Mendoza and several lancers at the tavern.

"Wait," Diego cut in, "Villero?"

Felipe nodded, going on to explain this Villero was claiming to be Mercedes' husband. And that de Soto was deliberately provoking the man, stirring him up against Don Alejandro and the señora. The youth finished with the threats of murder Villero swore against the elder de la Vega and the woman he said was his wife.

"We'd better hurry," urged Diego grimly. After barking hurried instructions to the vaqueros, he nudged his mare's sides and took off at a gallop. Felipe spun his horse around and followed.

Diego knew as the scenery went flying past, that de Soto would let this Villero escape in the hope the man would carry out his vow to kill his father and Mercedes. It sounded so Machiavellian; to get someone else to take care of one's enemy and do it so the blame would be placed on the hapless bastard instead of oneself.

As soon as they reached the back entrance to the cave, Diego jumped off his mount, hopped onto the trigger that opened the hidden opening. Once inside, he quickly stripped of his dusty clothing and donned his black costume.

He had just finished tying his mask and was placing his hat upon his silk covered head when he heard a gunshot from inside the hacienda then a woman's scream.

_Oh, Dios mio!_ He prayed as he ran up of the short flight of steps and into the passageway that led to the library fireplace. Figuring no one would notice him emerging from the swinging panel, he tugged on the wall sconce then duck down then out into the library.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "A Love Remembered" written by Gary Stephen Rieck & Joe Gunn]

Padre Benitez followed a procession of altar boys down a hillside where a wagon and driver waited. A few of the townspeople trailed behind the priest.

_Another funeral_ , Diego thought bitterly. There had been entirely too many of them in the passing months. Guiltily, he had to admit, he felt more sorrow attending this one than any of the others, including his wife's.

He glanced down at the freshly turned dirt mounded at his feet. Mercedes Sanchez Villero laid buried underneath, along, Diego feared, with a piece of his father's heart. The elder de la Vega had insisted she be laid to rest on her family's land, in the midst of the flower-filled meadow. It was the last place she had been happy, he had said. 

Diego had unsuccessfully tried to blot out the horrifying images of the señora's death. His father cradling the dying Mercedes in his arms, the front of her pale yellow dress marred by a growing crimson stain. A man, her estranged husband, standing over them with a smoking pistol in his hand.

It had been eerily reminiscent of the night Zafira had been shot. The only difference was it was the unloved husband who had been the killer while the old lover had been the one holding the unfaithful wife as she died in his arms. Mercedes had stepped out in front of his father as Zafira had stepped out in front of Diego as the trigger had been pulled. The fact Villero's murderous presence had been set up by de Soto, and all because of a horse, made Diego's stomach churn.

He watched as the old don crouched down and set the bouquet of spring flowers he had been holding against the white wooden cross at the head of the grave. "Mercedita, I'm giving your property away," he stated solemnly. "To the people of Los Angeles, so that everyone can enjoy it and share in your dream." 

Victoria placed the blossoms she was clutching down next to Don Alejandro's. He stood back up and took the innkeeper's hand.

"Thank you for coming, Victoria," he said. "I appreciate it."

She nodded. "I didn't know the señora," she explained. "But I just wanted to be here for you."

" _Gracias_ , my dear." The elder de la Vega started to lead Victoria down the gentle slope to where their mounts and her cart and horse waited. Diego turned and rested his hand on the shoulder of the young man standing next to him. _Thank God for Felipe_ , he reflected, for if it hadn't been for him, there would have been not only Mercedes' but his father's funeral to attend as well.

Diego and Felipe made their way down the gentle slope behind the others. His father had placed a parental hand on Victoria's back as the two of them walked on ahead. It's like we're a family, Diego realized suddenly. A very close-knit family who laughed together and cried together, as they were doing that day. 

Victoria's black skirt swished from side to side as she went, giving Diego glimpses of her trim ankles. With an inward groan, he vainly tried to tamp down his growing and wholly inappropriate desire. She still had two months, three weeks, and six. . .no, five days left of her mourning. Not that he was counting or anything. Not that it mattered as he had nearly nine months of it left himself. 

But, he thought as he watched the elder de la Vega assist the lovely innkeeper into the seat of her cart, that didn't mean he couldn't begin to ingratiate himself into her life. To let her know he was interested in her. And to be truthful, he couldn't bear to idly sit back and painfully observe other men as they attempted to court her. And he might as well start now.

"Victoria, wait," Diego called out as she prepared to drive away. She stopped the reins in mid-flick and turned her curious eyes to him. He ran the last couple of steps as he came up beside her.

"Yes, Diego?" 

"I was wondering if you could come back to the hacienda with us?" he asked as casually as he could. 

Victoria looked down at her hands and Diego noticed her grip on the reins tightened. "Why?" she glanced up at him, a bit of a challenge in her voice.

"I think my father could use your company," he replied. He smiled wryly. "You're a good influence on him." He moved closer and put his hand on the seat next to her dark skirt. "This has hit him hard and I'm worried," he confided.

"Me, too," the lovely innkeeper agreed. "It's so tragic, especially coming so soon after Doña Zafira."

"Indeed." She had no idea he was more affected by Mercedes's passing, that he felt more grief for a woman he'd really only known for a week than for the woman he had been married to for five years. A woman whom everyone thought had given him a daughter. 

"And, um, Isabella was asking about you just the other day," he said, not totally untruthfully as he noticed the indecision yet in Victoria's eyes. The toddler had been talking about ‘the lady at the circus' in recent weeks. Diego could only assume she meant Victoria.

A wistful expression flickered on the woman in question's face for a brief moment. "I'll come," she said with a nod.

"Good," Diego said. He gazed up at her, his heart filling with a longing so intense it pained him. He realized she was staring back at him, a quizzical expression on her face. "I'll see you at the hacienda then," he reminded her as he averted his eyes, hoping she hadn't been able to see what he had been thinking.

He stepped back, allowing her to drive away, feeling a bit ashamed for using his daughter as a lure to entice the beautiful innkeeper into considering him as a suitor. But, he mused, _all's fair in love and war_. Diego, unable to quite hide a mischievous grin, ambled over to where Don Alejandro and Felipe waited astride their mounts.

Z Z Z

The next six months flew by in a flurry of activity. Zorro had been kept very busy, for which Diego was grateful as he had less time to dwell on the tragedies that had befallen the de la Vegas.

There had been the usual banditos, of course; along with a crooked election, bad-tempered bigoted government officials, and one very determined female bounty hunter who had been determined to claim the reward on the masked man's head.

Then there had been the death of Pablo Saragosa. He had been the leader of a band of cutthroats who had tried to lay siege to the pueblo de Los Angeles. Everyone said it wasn't Zorro's fault the man had fallen on his own knife, but Diego knew better. If the man in black hadn't been so arrogant, maybe the man would still be alive, although realistically, Saragosa had been destined for the gallows anyway.

And through it all, he had managed to surreptitiously court Victoria as himself while his masked alter ego had deliberately avoided her. It would have too suspicious, too incriminating, for Zorro to suddenly resume his flirtations with the beautiful widowed innkeeper. To abruptly become free to pursue her again after all of his protestations to the contrary at the same time that Diego himself had been released from his wedding vows. . . 

Shaking his head, he packed some dried beef and a few apples into his saddlebags. It was early morning, the sun barely peeking over the eastern horizon. He was going to Santa Paula to speak with a emissary of King Ferdinand who was staying there. His father had learned the man had no intentions of traveling to Los Angeles so had decided to take the bull by the horns.

Unfortunately, Don Alejandro had fallen off his horse and had cracked two ribs two days previous. Diego wasn't sure why the old don had tried to jump a fence unless it was to prove he was as strong as ever. He had worried about the elder de la Vega since Mercedes had been killed. His behavior had become more reckless and his impulsive nature had only increased.

Diego had volunteered to go speak with the magistrate, even though he was concerned for his father's well being. Yawning, he slung the saddlebags over his shoulder and walked down the hallway to the nursery.

"Papa!" Isabella sat on her bed, looking at a picture book. "Look!" She hopped down and rushed over to him, pointing a chubby finger at one of the pages. "A fox."

Grinning, Diego glanced at the drawing of a red, bushy-tailed animal. " _Si, un zorro_ ," he responded. He crouched down and put his arms around the nightgown-clad little girl. "Bella," he said, using the name she had dubbed herself, "I have to go to Santa Paula today. But I'll be back tonight before you go to bed."

"Promise?" asked his daughter, gazing up at him with her trusting violet eyes.

"Promise," Diego vowed. "You be a good girl for Nana," he added, using the name Isabella had dubbed her niñera. The two and a half year old child was a dominant force in the de la Vega hacienda and there were many times Diego knew she should be punished for her antics. But he just didn't have the heart to do it.

She had surprisingly few effects from witnessing her mother's violent death. Loud noises, especially sharp banging ones, still startled her to tears. For a month or two, she had had a few restless nights. And she had an aversion to curly-haired men. Men who also reminded Diego of Joaquin Correna.

"I will, Papa." She squirmed in his embrace as he kissed her cheek. 

" _Te quiero_ ," he said, kissing her forehead before he released her and stood back up.

Isabella looked up at him with adoring eyes. " _Te quiero_ , Papa."

[parts of the following scene taken from "One Special Night" written by Gary Stephen Rieck]

Diego left the nursery after saying goodbye and strode toward the front door, his saddlebags slung over his left shoulder. He took a deep breath as he stepped out into the cool morning air where Felipe stood waiting at the gate, holding the reins of a golden brown mare. 

"I feel better about leaving knowing the alcalde's away," he said to the youth.

The young man drew a ‘Z' in the air with his index finger then grinned. Diego chuckled. "He feels better about it too." He came up to the gate and took Esperanza's reins. "I should be back tonight," he declared. "Keep an eye on Father for me. Make sure he stays in bed. His ribs need time to heal."

Felipe nodded readily. Diego patted him on the arm then turned to his horse. While in Santa Paula, he hoped to pay a visit to the de la Vegas' lawyer, to set into motion the process of adopting Felipe. He had no idea how long or what it would take to make the orphaned youth his legal son. He hadn't mentioned it either Felipe or his father. No sense in raising their expectations until he knew if it was even possible.

He started to lift his left foot in the stirrup but paused as he heard the jingling of tack and the low rumble of wagon wheels. Spinning around, he watched as Victoria brought her horse and cart to a halt a few meters away.

"Señora, good morning," he greeted her pleasantly, his tone belying the trepidation her unexpected appearance stirred up inside him. He was wondering what had brought her out so early when it suddenly dawned on him why she was there.

His suspicions were confirmed as Victoria climbed down from the cart and raised her eyes at him defiantly. She intended to make the trip to Santa Paula with him.

Diego didn't know which was worse, the fact she thought he needed her help in speaking with the emissary; or that he would spend most of the day essentially alone with her. 

He didn't know if he was up to such a perilous task. But, he surmised fatalistically, he was about to find out.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - By definition, the word resilience means a speedy recovery from problems or setbacks. Diego, Isabella, and Victoria have all shown remarkable resilience in recovering from the deaths of someone thoughr to be dear to them.


	52. The Road to Santa Paula

[parts of the following scene taken from "One Special Night" written by Gary Stephen Rieck]

Just as he predicted, Victoria marched right up to him. "Diego," she said imperiously, "I'm going with you."

Diego stared at her, slightly annoyed even though her announcement was hardly unexpected. Traveling in her cart would slow them down. And he would be unable to contact the lawyer about adopting Felipe without some sort of explanation or excuse as to what he was doing. And he didn't want to reveal his intentions to anyone just yet, not even to the woman he loved. "I beg your pardon," he drawled as she seemed to be waiting for some kind of response.

His attention, however, was drawn away from Victoria by two men riding toward them from the north. An alertness that had nothing to do with the woman standing before him made him shiver.

"You will need my help pleading our case to the King's emissary," Victoria stated crossly as she pulled her rebozo closer together over her shoulders. He was only listening with half an ear as he watched the approach of the riders as they neared the hacienda.

"You don't say," he murmured absently even though it still perturbed him she thought he couldn't be trusted to explain the plight of the people of Los Angeles to the magistrate.

"Diego?" queried the lovely innkeeper querulously. "Diego de la Vega! You haven't heard a word I said!

Her indignation finally caught his full interest. Dios, she was beautiful when she was angry, he thought, and not for the first time, with her dark eyes blazing and her bosom heaving. He chuckled to cover up the jolt of lust that shot through him

"Of course I have," he said even though he really hadn't as he already had known what she would say. And although a part of him, a very willful and persuasive part wanted nothing more than to be alone with her, his mind knew it wouldn't be a good idea. "But how would it look?" he asked, hoping to dissuade her. "The two of us traveling alone together? Think of the gossip."

"Gossip?" Victoria looked up at him a bemused expression. "About you and me? Don't be silly." She shook her head as she dismissed the notion. "I'm a widow and you're a widower. There's nothing improper about us traveling together."

Diego stared down at her, not believing she had not heard the rumors flying about the pueblo concerning the two of them. It was a perfect match, he had overheard one matron remark to another. It would be so romantic for the beautiful young widow to marry the handsome widower and help his raise his poor motherless child.

Fuel had only been added to the fire as Victoria had started to visit the hacienda quite often, ostentatiously to see Isabella and Don Alejandro. His daughter had become enchanted by her ‘Tia Toria', the nickname she had bestowed on the innkeeper as ‘Victoria' had been too much of a mouthful for the two year old to say.

Diego could see the bond between them growing every time Victoria visited. She was more of a mother to Bella than Zafira had ever been, he had told himself on several occasions.

Frowning, he observed as the two men slowed their horses as they approached the hacienda gate. He called out a greeting. One of the men acknowledged him before asking how far it was to Los Angeles. Diego told them, pointing southward. "You've come far?" he asked, taking in their dusty clothing. "You look as if you had a hard journey."

" _Si_ ," replied the same man who had spoken before. "The Santa Paula bridge is out."

Diego glanced meaningfully at Victoria's cart then at the woman herself. The road wasn't the easiest to travel even under the best of conditions. The detour was even worse. "It looks like you won't be joining me after all."

She stared up at him defiantly. "I'm sure Don Alejandro would not refuse me the loan of one of his horses," she said with a challenging tone.

"A strong-willed woman, Señor," the man commented with a sly grin. 

Diego could feel the anger coming off Victoria in waves before she turned and stomped off toward her cart. He doesn't know the half of it, Diego thought, as he smiled sheepishly and shrugged nonchalantly.

"If she were mine," the man's voice grew hard and mean, "I'd put her in her place. _Adios_." He kicked his horse with his spurred boot heels then he and his companion rode away. 

Obviously not a gentleman who treated women with the respect they deserved, Diego thought broodingly. There was something about the man that raised his hackles, and not just because of his boorish attitude.

Diego looked over at Felipe, whom he noticed was trying unsuccessfully to hide a knowing grin. Then he glanced over at Victoria who was carrying a small case toward the front door of the hacienda, apparently going to change from her blouse and dark blue skirt and into her riding habit. 

He sighed wearily, deciding he might as well take her with him. He really had no choice now since those two brutes would no doubt be staying at the tavern. And with their opinion toward women. . . Well, she definitely would be much safer with him. 

"Felipe, take Victoria's wagon back to the tavern," he instructed. "I'll saddle her a horse."

The youth nodded and ran over to the horse and cart. Diego watched Victoria as she entered the hacienda before turning then making his way toward the stables.

Z Z Z

"These - ‘peasants'- as you call them, work hard all day, every day, to earn what little they make," Diego stated angrily. "When the government takes it share in taxes, these people have nothing left to make improvements to their land, to their homes. Most can hardly afford to feed their children, let alone send them to school."

He stared crossly at the man who sat behind a table in the Santa Paula's alcalde's office. This emissary of King Ferdinand, Don Jose Delpavo, was nothing more but an arrogant popinjay who, in Diego's opinion, wasn't happy to be in California and was taking it out on everyone he met. 

"Then they're not working hard enough," sneered Delpavo condescendingly. "Everyone has to pay their taxes." 

"I understand that," Diego said in an irritated tone. "A government needs funds to function. To protect and serve its people," he pointed out ironically. "But the last several alcaldes of Los Angeles have been lining their pockets with exorbitant levies raised above and beyond the call of duty."

"Do you have proof of these illicit taxes, de la Vega?" the emissary asked patronizingly. "This is quite a serious accusation to bandy about without any evidence."

Diego stepped forward, removing a sheaf of papers from his jacket and placing it before Delpavo. "This is a record of every unnecessary tax raised in the past five years. Every bed tax, income tax, horse tax, traveler's tax. . . They're all listed there."

The magistrate picked up the documents and swiftly skimmed through them. "Is this it?" he queried as he tossed the papers aside.

"What more do you need?" Diego countered impatiently. He swung his arm back to indicate Victoria. "Señora Ortiz here can verify its accuracy." She nodded eagerly.

"I am supposed to instigate proceedings against your alcalde based on your word and hers?" Don Jose scoffed. "The man is allowed to make up any deficits in the annual tax roll anyway he sees fit."

He rose from his chair and took out his pocket watch from his waistcoat. "I would dearly love to stay and chat with you all day, Don Diego," he stated sarcastically as he stared at the watch's dial, "but I have another appointment."

"Sit down," Diego snarled. "I haven't finished with you yet."

He could feel Victoria's surprise even though she sat behind him. The emissary, taken aback by the violence in Diego's tone, plopped back down into his chair. In truth, Diego had even stunned himself.

"Have you ever asked yourself of the repercussions when all the tax paying citizens are driven out of the territory?" Diego inquired harshly. "When their land lays barren and unproductive and you can no longer collect money from it?" He could tell by the emissary's face the man was clueless, that he had no idea of the dilemmas the common people faced every day, like deciding whether to play their taxes or feed their children. 

Diego shook his head at the emissary's ignorance and his total disinterest in educating himself beyond the cut of his coat or the polish of his boots. Honestly, he didn't know why the King even bothered to send such worthless representatives. Toadying aristocrats who wanted nothing more than to bolster their own importance. Men like de Soto who barely gave a thought to the people they crushed as they climbed their way to the top of the ladder. And speaking of which. . .

"At least protect the people from the excesses of the military," he requested a bit more politely. "The commandante of Los Angeles is an out-of-control mad man who will stop at nothing to get what he wants." Diego thought again of the wicked deed his old classmate had perpetrated that had resulted in Mercedes's death.

"Alcalde de Soto wants to capture that outlaw. . .that Zorro," said Delpavo. "He has my most sincere blessings and those of His Majesty in bringing this ‘fox' to justice anyway he can."

Diego shook his head wearily then glanced over at Victoria. She was staring at him as if she was seeing him for the first time. But he also saw in her expression the same hopelessness he felt. The government didn't care about its people. It just wanted their money. And to see Zorro, their only defender, swinging at the end of a rope.

"Well, thank you for your valuable time," Diego said sarcastically through clenched teeth as he bowed to the emissary. He turned back to Victoria. "Let's go. I want to make it back to Los Angeles tonight."

She didn't say anything as she rose from her chair and took his proffered arm. It wasn't until they had stepped outside before she stopped and stared up at him.

"It's pretty late already," Victoria stated, making her point by looking up at the darkening afternoon sky. "We won't make it home before dark. Why can't we stay the night here?"

"I promised Isabella," said Diego simply.

"Very well." Victoria let go of his arm and walked over to where their mounts were tied to a rail. "It looks as though a storm is coming in. We'd better hurry."

[parts of the following scene taken from "One Special Night" written by Gary Stephen Rieck]

Victoria's prediction turned out to be correct. A large bank of thick black clouds moved inland off the ocean, bringing with them thunder, lightening, wind, and rain. Diego recognized the fact they weren't going to make it back to Los Angeles before the storm hit, the detour around the washed out bridge having lengthened their journey.

There was only one place close by that Diego knew they could take shelter for the evening. He pointed ahead vaguely. "There's an old abandoned windmill about a mile up that way," he told Victoria. "I think we can make it there before the storm hits."

"All right," she agreed readily. They both urged their horses forward as large drops of rain began to splatter them.

The old mill soon loomed in front of them. Diego closed his eyes. A mistake, as the image of Señora Sinestra appeared in his mind. A picture of her as she had writhed half naked beneath him as he had almost broken his marriage vows with the beautiful murderess. 

He shot a quick look at the woman next to him as they slowed their mounts as they came up to the mill. He swallowed nervously as he abruptly realized he was no longer bound by his promise of faithfulness to Zafira. And he was going to be spending the night in deserted building with the woman he had been in love with for years.

It was with great trepidation Diego helped Victoria down from her mare and led her out of the increasingly violent thunderstorm and into the snug, dry windmill.

_Lead me not into temptation_ , he prayed silently as he looked upward. The bright flash of lightening and the booming clap of thunder immediately following his plea seemed an ominous sign.

Z Z Z

[parts of the following scene taken from "One Special Night" written by Gary Stephen Rieck]

About an hour later, Diego had secured their horses, built a roaring fire, and had shared the food from his saddlebags. Victoria sat on a bench in front of the fireplace, trying to keep warm.

"I think it's getting worse out there," he commented casually as he tossed a couple of the sticks into the flames. He was uncomfortably conscious of the fact he was alone with the woman he loved and that she was less than an arm's length away.

He was confident, however, any advances on his part would not be welcomed as she considered him nothing more than a friend. He prayed knowing that would be enough of a deterrent.

Again, lightening struck so close he could hear it sizzle and the immediate boom of thunder shook the whole building. Diego cast a suspicious glance at the ceiling, wondering if it was just a coincidence all his entreaties were being answered by thunder and lightening. He then turned his eyes to Victoria and noticed she was shivering even though she sat in front of the fire.

Taking a deep breath, he stood up, placing his body in front of hers. Her usual scent of peppers and spices mingled with those of rain and horseflesh had him fighting the urge to take her into his arms and melding his mouth to hers. Instead, he lightly placed his hands on her arms and lifted her gently to her feet. The contact made his heart start to beat erratically and the look of curiosity she gave him did nothing to calm him.

"Excuse me," he murmured before guiding her to his right. Diego then picked up the bench and set it on its end. Darting over to the saddles, he quickly extracted one of the blankets he had brought.

"Glad I brought these," he said as he spread it out onto the ground.

"You mean we're spending the night here?" Diego heard the tinge of alarm in her voice and saw that she hugged her arms closer to herself. "I thought you needed to get back for Isabella?"

"Well, the storm doesn't give us much choice," he replied as nonchalantly as he could. Inside, his emotions were churning as wildly as the weather outside. He turned and picked up another blanket, placing it about a meter to the left of the first one. "I'll just have to explain it to her."

He looked up as she smiled. A huge mistake, as his body reacted exactly in the way he was trying to prevent. "I didn't know one could reason with a two year old," she said merrily.

Diego had to grin. "One usually can't," he conceded. He went over and picked up the bench before setting it down lengthwise on the bare space between the two blankets. Although the way he was feeling at that moment, he doubted a barrier a mile high would be enough to keep him away from her. He gave the bench a firm pat. _Please be enough for tonight_ , he entreated. Outside, there was a flash of light as thunder reverberated overhead.

"And what is this?" Victoria asked, her tone still amused

He turned to face her after picking up a bag of milled grain in each hand then dropped the one in his right hand onto the edge of the nearest blanket. "Your side," he announced before letting the bag in his left hand go. It plopped onto the other blanket, raising a puff of whitish dust. "My side."

Victoria gazed up at him, her dark brown eyes full of mirth. "How very proper."

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he lied, clenching his fists as he fought the overpowering compulsion to take her into his arms. If he didn't, he would be no better than those other men who had tried to take advantage of her widowhood.

He was, however, unprepared for Victoria's response to his perjury. "And neither would I," she stated indignantly. But Diego thought underneath her outrage, he heard a touch of longing.

Mentally shrugging, Diego eased himself down onto his blanket then rolled over so his back was to her. A minute passed, then another, then three more. He sensed she hadn't moved and wondered what was wrong. He glanced over his shoulder and saw she was staring down at him, an incredulous expression on her beautiful face.

What did she expect, that he was going to leap on her, forcing his attentions on her when he wasn't sure if they would be welcomed? He lifted the corners of his lips in what he hoped was a reassuring manner then said good night.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - In the episode "One Special Night", Diego and Victoria go to Santa Paula to speak with an emissary of the King, having to go on a detour since the main road's bridge is washed out.
> 
> Historical side note - The city of Santa Paula did not exist in 1820. It was founded in 1872 by Nathan Weston Blanchard who had purchased 2700 acres of land then laid out the townsite. 
> 
> Several mentions are made throughout the series about the pueblo of Santa Paula. It is unknown whether the writers of those episodes had no idea of the town's actual origins, or if they did know but figured no one would care about the historical inaccuracy.


	53. Burning Desire

[parts of the following scene taken from "One Special Night" written by Gary Stephen Rieck"]

Sleep eluded him, as he knew it would. It didn't help Victoria had perched herself on the end of the bench nearest the fire, peeking over her shoulder at him every few minutes. He wasn't prepared when she suddenly whipped her head around, catching him with his eyes open. He saw the smug smile on her lips as she turned back to face the fire.

"You were very impressive today," she finally said.

"Was I?" he asked after making a big show of waking up even though she had caught him staring at her.

Their eyes met as she swung around to face him. "It was like that time a few months ago," she said, "when you threw that man against the wall when he said those things about me at the tavern."

Swallowing nervously, Diego averted his gaze downward. "I was defending your honor," he explained self-effacingly. "I. . .I couldn't. . ."

"Then there was the time when you first came back from Spain," she interrupted. "When you defended me against that awful corporal. Then you challenged the alcalde when he was threatening those poor farmers." She paused and Diego noticed a faraway look in her eyes. "You seemed ready to take on the whole world then," she added quietly.

Victoria focused her attention back on him. Diego tried to school his face into what he hoped was an apathetic expression. Her observations had unsettled him greatly. Was she finally figuring it out his masquerade? he wondered worriedly.

"What happened to that man?"

"Nothing," he lied. He chuckled with false joviality. "I'm against injustice just as much as the next fellow," he stated, "I just don't believe that violence is the answer."

"But. . ." Now she looked confused. She stood up, and for a terrifying moment, Diego thought she would come over to his side of the bench. "It's like what you say about the newspaper," she began, a small smile on her lips, "that ‘the pen is mightier than the sword.'"

"Exactly." Diego sighed with relief when she nodded then made her way over to ‘her' side. He watched as she curled up on her blanket, her dark eyes reflecting the light of the fire. The storm had quieted to a steady pattering of rain on the old mill's roof. But the tempest inside of Diego still raged on, his desire for her warring with his code of honor.

Clenching his fists, he rolled over, turning his back to her. He began running complicated mathematical equations through his mind, hoping to douse the lust running through his veins.

After nearly half an hour of mental arithmetic; which had done little to cool his ardor; and the sounds of even breathing coming from the other side of the bench, Diego surmised Victoria had fallen asleep. He wasn't about to turn over and check, however. So he nearly jumped out of his skin when she spoke.

"The fire reminds me when my mother used to read to me poems and adventure stories," Victoria commented wistfully, "of love and courage."

Diego gulped uneasily. He definitely did not want to hear stories of love, especially from the lips of the woman lying only a few feet away.

" _‘Love has no rhyme and no reason,'_ " she quoted from a poem his own mother had read to him when she had been alive. " _‘It strikes with a passionate fire, engulfing the hearts in flame. . .'_ "

Her voice trailed off with a tinge of sadness. Diego wasn't sure what came over him then, madness no doubt, but he couldn't stop himself from finishing the rest of the sonnet. " _‘And only your cool, sweet lips will quench my burning desire.'_ "

He squirmed apprehensively as he could feel her eyes burning into his back. "Diego," she whispered huskily, causing his already tense body to stiffen even more. "I. . ."

A gust of howling wind interrupted whatever she had been about to say. The door blew open as the old building shook, filling the room with an icy blast of air. Diego jumped to his feet and hurried over to the flapping door. He let the freezing wind sweep over his heated skin for a moment before firmly shutting and latching the door.

He turned and saw Victoria kneeling on her blanket, her arms wrapped around herself and shivering violently. "Oh, you're chilled," he said, stating the obvious. "Here." He walked toward her, taking off his jacket. Getting down on to his knees, he draped his coat over her quaking shoulders.

Diego automatically rubbed his hands up and down her slender arms in an effort to warm her. A mistake as his senses immediately went on the alert as he realized just how close his body was to hers. And just how close his mouth was to hers. 

He stilled his hands and drew in a ragged breath. She gazed up at him with her dark brown eyes, glittering with something he dared not name, and he tumbled helplessly into their depths. He lifted his hands and cupped her cheeks then lightly stroked his thumbs over her trembling lips.

"Diego," she murmured almost imperceptibly as their lips drew closer together.

He breathed her name just as their mouths met. Another spate of thunder and lightening was passing overhead but even its renewed ferocity couldn't match the raging storm swirling inside Diego. He realized she wasn't resisting, she was parting her lips, allowing his tongue to slip between them. Her hands were entwined behind his head, tangling her fingers in his hair.

Diego encircled his arms around her waist and pressed her supple body against his. In the back of his mind, he was hoping she wasn't comparing this kiss to the one Zorro had given her. It had been four years since their encounter in the courtyard, and he prayed she had forgotten it even though it was something he would remember to his dying day.

Shoving those thoughts aside, he slid his hands upward to cup her breasts which he was delighted to discover filled his hands perfectly. Tearing his mouth from hers, he began trailing kisses down her throat. His jacket slipped off her shoulders, falling silently to the floor.

Soon her own jacket joined his as he tugged down the neck of her blouse and the straps of the chemise she wore underneath it. Diego gazed for a moment at the bared rosy pink nipples, erect as the throbbing member between his legs. He dipped his head and took the left one in his mouth. He felt Victoria tremble as she clung to him, her soft belly rubbing agonizingly against the hard ridge of his manhood as he licked and tasted first one breast then the other.

He began to lower her down onto her blanket when suddenly the room was illuminated by a bolt of lightening followed a split second later by booming thunder. Diego instinctively drew Victoria protectively against him as the old building rattled. It wasn't until it grew quiet again that he noticed his shirt had been unbuttoned and her bare skin was pressed to his.

_Madre de Dios!_ Diego recoiled in horror as he realized he had been just moments away from ravishing Victoria. If the storm hadn't brought him back to his senses. . . 

He shifted away from her, and immediately missed the intimate contact. Victoria seemed dazed, staring at him with unseeing eyes and making no attempt to cover herself.

Diego reached out, intending to remedy the situation as his barely leashed control threatened to free itself at the sight of her still bared flesh. Something inside Victoria must have awaken as her eyes widened. "Oh," she whispered as she turned away from him and put her clothing back to rights.

"I'm sorry," he murmured huskily, staring into her deeply troubled eyes when she faced him once again. "I. . .I don't know what came over me. I know that's no. . ."

"Diego, don't. . ." she cut in unsteadily. "I. . .I. . ."

She rose to her feet and Diego followed suit. Her eyes darted downward and he realized his chest was stilled exposed. "I think we need to talk," he declared wryly as he hastily re-fastened his buttons.

Victoria nodded but said nothing. Diego understood she wanted him to speak first. Sighing, he glanced up at the ceiling. Not finding any guidance there, he lowered his head and made the mistake of looking into her bewitching brown eyes.

"I love you," he blurted out before he could stop himself. _Maldita sea_ , he groaned inwardly. Even though he was now free of the matrimonial bonds prohibiting him from doing so before, he hadn't meant to declare his true feelings for her so bluntly.

Her response to his announcement, however, was not what he expected. Surprise, yes; indifference, maybe; anger, a distinct possibility. Just about anything but the wary shyness that he saw in her eyes. She averted her face as a blush touched her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," he reiterated. "I didn't mean to. . ."

"No," she interrupted. "No, you did." She stared up at him curiously.

Diego swallowed nervously under her scrutiny. " _Si_ ," he admitted. "I've loved you for quite some time."

She bit her lower lip; something she did, Diego had noted, when she was worried or anxious. "Even before Doña Zafira was killed?" she inquired hesitantly. "While you were still married?"

He wanted to lie to her, to let her think he had fallen in love with her only after he had become a widower. But he knew he couldn't. She deserved the truth.

"Yes," he answered simply, gazing at her longingly. "Since the day I returned home from Spain."

Victoria plopped down on the bench in front of the fire. "I had no idea," she whispered, more to herself than to him, he surmised. He watched as she mulled over his revelations.

"When I married Juan," she began, "it was because I wanted a family. I didn't love him, not the way a wife should love her husband. I. . .I thought I could grow to love him over time. But now I see how foolish I truly was."

"No, not foolish," he interjected. "I did the same thing. I thought I loved Zafira." He sighed. "But I know now I was just lonely and thought she could fill the emptiness inside me." He got down on his knees in front of Victoria, so that their eyes were level with each other's. 

"My marriage was a sham from the start," he confessed, resisting the urge to put his arms around her. "Zafira married me so that Correna and his band of rebels could assassinate King Ferdinand."

Victoria gasped at his admission. Diego outlined the whole plot for her, leaving nothing out except for the one fact that he would never willingly reveal. Even so, he watched as the dreaded question entered her mind.

"Isabella. . .?" she asked tentatively.

"She's mine," he lied brazenly before adding truthfully, "She's the only good that has come out of this whole sordid mess."

Victoria nodded her agreement. It dawned on Diego then she hadn't really responded to his earlier declaration of love. He got to his feet then stared down at her.

"Your heart still belongs to someone else," he stated, a bit surprised by the note of jealousy, irrational though it was, in his voice.

"It did," she replied. It took Diego a moment to comprehend she had used the past tense.

"Do you hate him now?" he had to ask. Neither of them had to say his name, they both knew who they meant.

"No," she said with a little shake of her head. "I realized he was just a romantic fantasy. That he would never be able to give me what I truly want, a home and a family." She turned to stare at the fire's flickering flames. "I could never hate him though. He's done so much for the people of Los Angeles."

"But he was instrumental in your husband's death," Diego pointed out, playing devil's advocate. "You could have had that home and family if he hadn't interfered with the alcalde's cannon."

"He had to disable that cannon," she said as she looked in his direction again.. "If he hadn't, more people would have died." Her gaze then returned to the fire. "Juan picked the wrong side," she added.

Diego thought he detected a trace of bitterness in her words and wondered if it was true she harbored no resentment against Zorro. "What if. . ." he heard himself say, not utterly sure what he was going to ask, then being slightly appalled by the words that did spill out of his mouth, "what if he could give you everything you want?"

Victoria turned to look up at him, the confusion plain in her eyes. "What?" she responded sharply. "What are you saying? He told me himself that he could never. . ."

"But what if he changed his mind," Diego insisted. He had to know. He had to know if there was a chance she still loved her mask hero. It was absurd, he knew, since he and Zorro were one and the same. "What if he could give you those children and that home you've always dreamed of?" he asked earnestly. "What would you do?"

"I. . .I. . .I don't know," she stammered. She lowered her gaze. A couple of minutes later, which to Diego felt like hours, she lifted up her head again. He could see in her eyes the turmoil his questions had raised.

"I don't think he will ever be free from his fight for justice," she replied at last. "I would be foolish to even hope that one day he would marry me." She tipped her head to the side and stared unnervingly at him. "Why?" she asked. "Why do you want to know? Why is it so important to you?"

Diego got down on one knee and took Victoria's hands in his. "Because," he replied, "because, Victoria, I want to marry you. Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?."

Victoria's mouth dropped open. Then she closed it as she regained her composure. "Are you serious?" she queried in a stunned whisper.

"I've never been more serious in my life," Diego responded. He gave her chilled hands a reassuring squeeze. "I love you. I want you to be my wife. I want you to be Bella's mother and the mother of the rest of my children."

"But," she began, once again gnawing on her bottom lip. "But. . .But you're still in mourning."

Diego jerked his head. _Dios_ , he had forgotten Zafira had been dead only nine months. That he had to pretend to grieve for her for another three months. "We don't have to marry right away," he said after thinking it over for a few moments. "We can wait."

"Yes."

"It will only be a few months," he stated, "then we. . ." His words trailed off as he realized what she had said. "Yes?" he asked, unable to keep the delighted surprise from his voice.

She nodded then smiled. "Yes, Diego," she reiterated. "I love you too. I want to marry you and be your wife. I want to be Bella's mother and. . ." Her cheeks grew pink. "And I want to have your children."

Diego put his arms around her and drew her up against his chest. He saw the love shining in her dark eyes and sighed happily. He lowered his head and their lips met again.

As he kissed the woman he had loved for so long, he hoped he would be strong enough to deny the burning desire he felt for her. That he could resist the urge to make her his own and that he would be able to wait until they were married.

He was. And he did.

Z Z Z

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title Inspiration - From the poem from the episode "One Special Night" which Victoria begins quoting and Diego finishes - "Love has no rhyme and no reason. It strikes with a passionate fire, engulfing the hearts in flame. And only your cool sweet lips will quench my burning desire."
> 
> I have it on good authority this poem was written by Duncan Regehr, who starred as Diego/Zorro in the series.
> 
> PS: This is the last chapter inspiration explanation as the next chapter is entitled 'Epilogue'. I hope you enjoyed learning the reasons behind what I named each chapter as I did naming them.


	54. Epilogue

Diego and Victoria were married six months after they had taken shelter from the storm in the abandoned windmill. They waited an extra three months past the expiration of Diego's mourning period so they wouldn't become fodder for the gossips of the pueblo. But even then there was talk.

It was another six months later when an emissary from the king came to Los Angeles and the little pueblo was never quite the same after his visit. Gilberto Risendo had turned out to be Diego's older twin brother, stolen at birth by a crazed midwife who bore a grudge against Don Alejandro. Diego wondered from time to time what his father had done that had caused Inez Risendo to extract such a twisted revenge. But he always decided he was better off not knowing.

Gilberto had tried to kill both Don Alejandro and Diego, but ended up being shot by de Soto only moments after the truth of his identity had been revealed. Don Alejandro had been extremely shaken by the turn of events and it had taken his adoption of Felipe six months later to drive the distressing events from his mind. Diego had felt guilty he had never adopted the young man himself and had suggested it to his father who had acquiesced wholeheartedly.

Zorro had also died the same day as Gilberto. Risendo's announcement he had blown up the masked man at Diablo Canyon had been an opportunity Diego readily seized upon to end his masquerade. His mask had become a wearisome yet dangerous burden he could no longer afford to carry on. He had finally appreciated he had a wife and a daughter to think of and he could no longer take the risks that being Zorro had demanded. Of course, Felipe had protested his decision but Diego had stood firm and the man in black had not been seen since.

A year after their wedding, Diego and Victoria were blessed with a son named Alfonso. Isabella adored her baby brother as well as her stepmother. She was a bright, vivacious child but it worried Diego sometimes that she didn't even remember her real mother.

It was six months after Alfonso's birth that the de la Vegas visited the mission cemetery for the festival of All Soul's Day. Both of Victoria's parents had been laid to rest there along with Diego's mother, grandparents, and brother. Sir Edmund Kendall had also been buried there. And of course, the graveyard was Zafira's final resting place.

Diego stared down at the headstone marking the place his first wife was buried. In his mind's eye, he saw the lovely girl she had been when he had first met her in Madrid all those years ago, with her lively blue eyes and shy smiles. He had loved her then, those first months after they had wed. To say differently would be an untruth, he realized with a pang of remorse.

He knelt down on one knee and placed one of the bouquets of roses that Victoria had prepared for the decoration of the graves against Zafira's marker. "I'm sorry," he murmured sincerely. "I wish I could say it would have been for the best if we had never met, but that would be a lie. I like to think I'm a better man for having known you. You made me see things in myself I would have never done on my own. _Gracias_."

Diego pulled out a red rose and place it on the top of the headstone. " _Adios_ , Zafira," he whispered. He got to his feet and turned to see his father, Felipe, and Bella distributing flowers to the various relatives and friends scattered about the cemetery. Then he turned again to see Victoria smiling at him, holding their infant son in her arms.

Diego felt a swell of love in his chest as he gazed at them. Then Victoria held her hand out toward him, her face full of the same love.

At that moment, Diego de la Vega was the happiest man in the world.

Z Z Z


End file.
